A Reason
by I Am Not Amused
Summary: The reasons people change are multifaceted. Why did James? How did Lily? What brings people together when they struggle even to smile? Mid-6th year through 7th year. LJ
1. The First Prank

"That's fifteen," James Potter said.

There were a few moments of uneasy silence.

"That's fifteen," James Potter repeated, tossing The Daily Prophet to the side in exasperation, "Fifteen people who have," Here he used air quotes, "'Mysteriously' died. And another disappearance, too. Which makes six of those."

Remus Lupin looked carefully at his friend, unsure of what to say. He knew that the path of uncertain destruction Voldemort was leaving had been slowly getting under James' skin. It was just like James to take the sufferings of others both so horribly and so flippantly at the same time.

"Mate," Sirius Black interjected, "I think you need to stop reading the Prophet."

"Yeah," Peter Pettigrew, the final of the group of four boys who had been affectionately referred to as the Marauders since third year, agreed sycophantically.

The group of four was tucked away in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room that had become a de facto home of theirs. Peter and Remus were engaged in a poor parody of a Wizard's Chess match. Peter was losing horribly. Sirius was tossing Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans expertly in the air and catching them in his mouth while leaning backwards in his chair.

James laughed with no humor, turning in his chair towards his friends, "It's not like not reading is going to make it go away. Every day some new awful thing happens and Hogwart's dies a little each time."

Remus stabbed forward experimentally with his rook.

"Right," Sirius began, "But at least you wouldn't be so bloody depressing all the time."

James' anger dissipated at this comment, and a helpless expression crossed his face.

"I know. It's awful. I just," He sighed heavily pushing his glasses up his nose, "I just hate it. I see guys like Frank and Edgar. They're practically just waiting for their families to get killed at this point."

"That's a little much, James," Remus said, finally speaking up.

"It's the truth," James replied emphatically, "I heard Frank say it to Alice the other day in Herbology. He said he knows it's going to happen and that it's just the waiting that's the hard part."

It was spring of sixth year for The Marauders and, since Voldemort's cloak and dagger dealings had begun to come to light near the beginning of the school year, the boys' flirtations with pranks and girls had slowly begin to wane. Quidditch now was the only thing they allowed themselves to get lost in and, even then, sometimes the new reality came crashing down. When a chaser would take a bludger and break his arm it used to be headline gossip. Now, with such real tragedies bearing down on them, it only warranted a trip to the Hospital Wing if you knew the player in question.

While many younger students and most Slytherins had been glad of the change of heart in the Marauders, their Halloween prank, the last prank they had pulled, was now looked back on fondly as a time when students could wander the halls with their heads held straight up.

James stood up from his chair and ran a hand through his wild mane of brown hair in frustration. Hogwart's as he had come to know it was dying. That much was apparent to him.

"We're _all_ just waiting!" He exclaimed to the practically empty common room, "Doesn't that bother you guys?"

"No," Sirius said casually, tossing another bean into the air. James knew why Sirius showed such disdain for his relatives. His family was a long line of Slytherins. His placement in Gryffindor had ostracized him from the family and, just that past summer, he had moved in with James.

"What would we do, anyway?" Peter moaned, considering a move with his pawn before changing his mind and looking at the board in frustration.

"I don't know," James cried helplessly, "But _something_!" He looked imploringly at Remus.

"James is right," Remus said quietly.

The other two Marauders immediately sobered. Remus didn't often tell James he was right to his face. Too often, James not only knew it, but flaunted it. Maybe part of Remus' quiet statement was desire to see his friend return to his more arrogant, but also more joyful, days.

"James is right," Remus said again, disregarding the chess board, "This place is different. No one here is happy anymore. While not a lot has been happening to make it happy, and I don't know what to do, I still agree that we can't just sit here and let Hogwart's be like this."

Peter looked from Remus and James to Sirius. Sirius was doing his best to seem unimpressed, but all three boys knew that the lone Gryffindor Black wouldn't stand against his friends.

"C'mon, Padfoot," James implored.

"Fine," Sirius said, grinning, "It _is _getting rather boring around here."

"But what do we do?" Peter asked timidly.

"I don't know," Sirius said, shrugging.

That realization seemed to stop the boys in their tracks for a moment. There was a bit of silence, before it seemed like the moment had passed and the determination of the three boys faded in the face of unrelenting reality. James slumped back down into his chair.

"We can't change anything if we don't have a plan," Peter said glumly, making a poor move with his knight, despite its protests.

"I've got it!" James cried, getting to his feet again.

"Got what, James?" Remus asked carefully.

"Pranks," James said, hardly able to contain his excitement.

"Pranks?" Remus repeated, "James, I don't think that's a good idea. It's jus-"

"Hear me out, Moony!" James interrupted. He jumped over the wizard's chess set to the other side of the table and turned to face his friends. Sirius tilted his chair in James' direction with an amused smirk on his face. Peter was alternately looking from the chess board to James, seeming to have realized the error of his move with the Knight. Remus had a suspicious look glinting in his eyes as he watched James in his peripheral vision.

"Why did we start The Marauders?" James prompted.

"To have fun and hex Slytherins!" Sirius cried, holding a single arm in a triumphant pose.

"No," James replied.

Sirius frowned.

"Well, yes," James amended and Sirius smiled, "In a way. But we started pranking people because we needed joy in our lives in a time where it was desperately lacking. Peter, you didn't have many friends and were getting picked on all the time. Remus, you had your furry little problem to deal with. Sirius, you couldn't walk around in your own house! And, well, yeah, me, too."

The other three boys nodded. The times James had reminded them of, while in the past, still emotionally fresh. Sirius' expression was the one that seemed to change the most as he went from playful to profoundly thoughtful in about two seconds.

"Yeah, it was stupid, sometimes," James allowed, "But it worked. We made our own happiness. We took horrible situations and made the best of them."

"So?" Peter asked.

"So now it's not us who are struggling. It's not us anymore who need the pick-me-up. It's everyone in Hogwart's. We did stupid little charms and jinxes on people and got people to cheer us and it helped us through our hard times."

"But everybody is down now," Remus interjected.

"Exactly!" James said, seeming to be coming to some sort of climax, "Exactly, Moony! So we're a lot better at magic now-"

"Best in our year," Sirius said, his grin returning.

"Yes!" James crowed again, "So we figure out a way to make our pranks both entertaining and, dare I say it, uplifting?"

"Oh, Merlin, James," Sirius groaned, "Uplifting?"

"What exactly did you have in mind?" Remus asked.

James grinned, "Alice and Frank. They both like each other. We know they do. They've told us separately."

"Yeah?" Peter prompted.

"We get them together," James concluded, a grin fighting to keep off of his features.

"I am not playing bloody matchmaker," Sirius complained again.

"How about puppet master?" James smirked.

Sirius smiled widely, "Now, see, _there's_ an idea I can get behind."

* * * * * * * *

The time between classes, no matter what real amount of time one had, always seemed to be either not nearly enough or entirely too much. It could be the same fifteen minutes, but one day you would find yourself sprinting just to make it to class late or, just the opposite, find yourself hanging outside of your classroom for more than ten.

It had taken roughly four years for the Marauders to figure out what kind of downtime it would be just be looking around the hallways. Once they had it down, though, they had figured out ways to make the most of it. After Transfiguration the quartet had stationed itself in a hallway just past the Main Hall, bustling with activity. They were leaning against a wall beside the Charms classroom, watching the bustling students.

Two, in particular. Alice Wright and Frank Longbottom were talking quietly on a bench kitty corner from the Marauders. Frank was a seventh-year student who had excelled in Charms while Alice was a sixth-year with a knack for Defense Against the Dark Arts. The two had been good friends for roughly three years now and both had confided in the Marauders (Frank in James, Alice in Remus) that they fancied the other.

There was a small break in the students, just enough for James and Sirius to make eye contact with Frank. The leading pair of the Marauders lifted their wands, with matching grins on their faces.

"Ready, Padfoot?" James said loudly, gathering the attention from the students in the hallways, causing them to stop and look.

"Always, Prongs," Sirius agreed before they both wordlessly cast their spells on Frank.

Laughter burst out as Frank was unceremoniously brought to his feet under the direction of the Marauders wands. His movements were smooth and natural, but the nervous, pained expression on his face was enough to tell you his actions were not intentional.

"Guys," Frank implored, looking at his friends.

"Don't worry," Remus said, "You'll thank us."

Hearing what should have been Sirius' words come out of Remus mouth were actually a comfort, as Remus always was the more sensible of them. With a few complex wand maneuvers, the Marauders positioned Frank in front of Alice.

There was a pregnant silence.

Remus then pushed himself from the wall, standing next to Frank.

"Ladies and Gentleman," Remus declared, "This is Frank Longbottom and he, assisted by my lovely staff," Here he gestured smirking at James and Sirius who beamed, "Will show now show you miscreants how to woo a girl with class."

Remus made a movement with his wand and a music stand appeared out of nowhere between James and Sirius. He went over to it, tapping it experimentally. He nodded at James to his left and then Sirius to his right.

Performing carefully with their wands, the pair had Frank walk up to Alice and bow down low. They forced him to take and kiss the back of her hand, causing the younger girl to blush furiously.

Again, there was a pause.

"Ask her to dance, you idiot," Sirius whispered, causing laughter to break out again.

"Uh," Frank stuttered, "A-Alice....d'ya-"

"Yes," Alice said, standing up with him.

There were cheers and catcalls but they died down as Remus tapped his music stand once more and then began moving it as if conducting an orchestra. Strains of a waltz slowly became louder in the hallway and James and Sirius worked their wands in tandem, leading Frank (who was leading Alice) in a complicated, but elegant waltz.

The laughter began to die down a bit as they watched the pair, now both smiling incessantly at one another, glide elegantly across the stone floors.

It came back, however, in full force once Peter Pettigrew stepped into the open circle, opened his mouth, and with a quick flick of his wand towards his throat, began singing in an operatic style to the music.

A lone redheaded girl came around the corner. Lily Evans was having the opposite between-class day as the Marauders. She came sprinting around the corner, a but perplexed by the lack of student movement in the corridors. As she came around, she was shocked to see the Marauders, all with their wands moving in complex patterns, pointing them at Frank Longbottom, much to the laughter of everyone in the hallway.

She angrily wondered what Potter and Black were doing this for. They had been much better behaved the whole year and she stomped towards them, forcing her way through the crowd. Remus, even! It surprised her to think he would go along with this, especially against Frank, a fellow Gryffindor. As she finally burst through the hysterical crowd, she opened her mouth to yell but stopped as she saw what was happening.

Frank and his longtime friend and (Lily knew) fervent admirer Alice Wright were engaged in an elegant dance together. Lily knew Frank couldn't dance, he had once tried to - as friends - at a Halloween Ball, but she found herself with bruised feet the next day. She was wondering how the transformation had been made but, a bit wide-eyed, made the connection as she saw James and Sirius working their wands as if trying to play a symphony themselves.

Remus was conducting the music from between the pair, his eyes closed as he got into his role and Peter - Peter! - was hamming it up for the audience with his spell-assisted vocal styling. She had to suppress a smile at the whole thing. They were showing off again! But she couldn't help but notice how eternally grateful both Frank and Alice seemed that they had.

The song wound down and the dancing came to an end, the Marauders dropping their wands to an abundance of applause. Alice and Frank, however, did not let go, smiling at each other. Sirius, always the more rash of the group looked at the pair and rolled his eyes.

"Jesus, just do it man!" He shouted, pulling out his wand and flicking it once, causing Frank to dip Alice suddenly, but in a romantic manner.

"D-D'you," Frank was stuttering again.

"Yes," Alice shyly replied.

Frank smiled wide once more and finally kissed her.

The Marauders looked proudly at each other as the other students, including Frank and Alice, made to continue on to their classes. James, perturbed by his hair getting into his eyes, ran a hand up to his brow to brush it away. Doing so, his gaze caught that of Lily Evans'. He smiled sheepishly at her and shrugged his shoulders.

Lily fought back a small grin, but it emerged even despite her rolling her eyes.

"You can't help yourself, can you, Potter?" She asked.

"With the pranks or the hair?" He cheekily replied.

"Both," She said plainly.

"Eh, I suppose not," Again he shrugged his shoulders.

They were silent for a moment, and the Marauders tapped James on the shoulder, urging him to follow them to the classroom for their next class. He gave a slight wave in Lily's direction as he left, smiling and laughing with the guys, the glow from their successful endeavor evident on their faces.

"Potter!" Lily called, causing James to turn around, smiling.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"What - What you did," She said a bit stiffly, trying to figure out her words.

"It was nice," She finished before turning the other direction and walking away.

James grin broke out even wider as he shook his head and returned to following his friends.


	2. For A Little While, It Worked

It worked.

For a little while, it worked.

The following day, almost no student could stop talking about Frank and Alice getting together, nor the spectacular, Marauder-aided manner in which they did. The next morning the Great Hall was buzzing with excitement and gossip over the event and, when the pair in question finally walked in, holding hands, they both blushed with the ovation they received.

Congratulations and wolf whistles came from every table, save the Slytherins, and Frank and Alice could barely believe the reception they were getting. The Marauders were most proud of all, it, of course, being their handiwork. They stepped up on the tables, led by James, to give the pair a standing ovation. As they got up, the applause increased, celebrating the mischievous pranksters who had orchestrated (literally) the whole thing. Even Headmaster Dumbledore had clapped his hands together lightly, his eyes twinkling, for the quartet.

"Merlin, you guys," Frank said, astounded, as they came to sit next to the Marauders and the applause died down, "I don't know what to say."

"Well," James began, climbing off the table and back into his seat along with the others, "A lot of people were waiting on you to get together. We just happened to have yesterday in the betting pool and figured that we needed to take matters into our own hands."

At Alice and Frank's astonished expression, the other Marauders burst out laughing and James flashed the pair a cheeky grin.

"He's joking," Remus assured them, "There is no betting pool."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Alice gasped.

"Though that would have been a good idea," Sirius said, thoughtfully.

"Down, Padfoot," James ordered, grinning, causing Peter and Remus to chuckle.

"No, seriously!" Sirius cried out, allowing a groan from the other Marauders at the play on words, "Who else in this school needs to get together? We can make a betting pool."

"No one, Padfoot," Remus said, with finality. A long, silent second passed before a look of realization came to his face, "Unless..." He trailed off.

"Yes, Moony, we're on the same wavelength here, I know it," Sirius prompted.

"What?" Peter asked, oblivious, "Who?"

"Prongs isn't going to like it, though," Remus said quietly.

"What?" James asked, suddenly intensely curious, "Why won't I like this?"

At James' question Remus suddenly seemed to lose his nerve and looked back to Sirius.

"Ignore him," Sirius said defiantly.

"Hey!" James protested.

"He doesn't need to be happy about it," Sirius said, "Are you with me, Moony?"

"Who?!" Both James and Peter exclaimed, equally clueless.

Remus' pained expression went from James to Sirius and back again, "We're trying to improve the mood of the students around here, right, James?" Remus asked.

"Yeah..." James said, slowly.

"Then, understand, I am only agreeing to this to that end." Remus stated, his mind seemingly made up, even if he was having a hard time getting the words out, "Don't hurt me," He added as an afterthought.

"That settles it!" Sirius said, "We start a betting pool on when Lily Evans and Amos Diggory are going to get together!"

Remus and Peter's both cringed at the abrupt, tactless way of announcing the idea. James' face, predictably, immediately fell.

"Oh," He said needlessly, "Oh, yeah, I mean..." He trailed off quietly.

He looked helplessly to each one of his friends. Peter was looking down, unable to meet his eyes. Remus tried to give him a look of encouragement and patted him on the back. Sirius at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"Mate, I'm sorry, I mean-"

"It makes sense," James interrupted steadfastly, "Put me down for five galleons on April 3rd," He said, reaching into his robes and pulling out five glittering gold coins.

Sirius attempted a smile, conjuring a ledger and quill from nowhere and writing the bet down. Looking at James' money, he pulled out a moleskin bag from his school bag and put the gold inside.

"I've got 2 galleons on May 15th," Remus said quietly, handing over his money.

"Give me ten sickles for April 27th," Peter added, throwing in some silver coins

"5 galleons on never for me," Sirius said, smiling, putting his money into the group.

"Never?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Never, this year," Amended Sirius. He looked over at James who, while attempting to appear unaffected, still looked a bit troubled, "You okay with this, mate?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, yeah," James assured, trying to look nonchalant. After a moment he added, "Just... Just don't talk to me about it, okay?" He asked, the pain slipping back onto his features.

"You got it, Prongs," Sirius assured him.

* * * * * * * *

It worked.

For a little while, it worked.

When the Daily Prophet came that morning and didn't hold news of any new killings or disappearances, Hogwart's even rejoiced a little more. The afterglow of two of its most popular students getting together held on for a little while longer than it really had a right to.

The Marauders, of course, continued to do their part. As excited as anyone about the lack of depressing news in that following day's Prophet, they staged a game of human bowling in the halls during lunch.

James and Sirius learned about the game after attempting to sneak into a pub in Muggle London on evening, only to be shot down, but not before learning about a game that amused them to no end. Getting to throw a heavy, bludger-like object at high speeds toward a stationary group of pins with the idea of destroying as many of the pins as possible? Aside from Quidditch, the pair couldn't think of a sport more suited for the Marauders.

The quartet stood outside the Great Hall, a sheet on the ground behind them. Pretending each to hold a microphone, they announced in a circus barker style to the amused crowd.

"Ladies and Gentleman," Sirius began.

"Children of all ages!" James continued.

"Let us welcome you to..." Remus trailed off.

"Slytherin Bowl-O-Rama!" Peter finished, grabbing and pulling at the sheet. The other three gave some quick flicks of their wands and gigantic plastic bowling pins popped up, each painted in the style of a Slytherin student.

The head pin was, of course, Snape.

The crowd laughed appreciatively at the sight as the Marauders proceeded to explain to the rules of their little game.

"It's two person teams," James announced, "One person body-binds and then levitates the other into the pins. Then, if there are pins that are still standing, the person who was bound and thrown the first time gets to bind and throw their partner."

"Remus is keeping score," Sirius interjected, "So don't worry about any of that."

"The goal is to knock down as many pins as you possibly can with each throw," James continued, "Any questions?"

At the silence that followed he let a large grin creep its way onto his features, "THEN LET THE GAMES BEGIN!" He cried, pumping his fist triumphantly.

There were about 8 teams playing but, really, only two that were doing very well. James and Sirius, of course, were talented both athletically and magically and, having invented the game, were performing marvelously. The other team, the combination of Bertram Aubrey and Frank Longbottom, had caught on rather quickly to the game and were, surprisingly, giving James and Sirius a run for their money. By the tenth and final frame, the Marauders were only up two pins.

"Merlin, Frank," James commented in admiration, "I didn't know you had such a skill with levitation!"

Frank shrugged vaguely, "I didn't know you were so crap at it, Potter," He quipped back before winking.

Remus and Peter sniggered at the exchange from their spot at the scorer's table, "It's amazing what a girl will do for a bloke's confidence," Remus muttered to Peter.

"Mate," Sirius said, clapping Frank on the back with one hand and expertly working his wand with the other, "I wouldn't be quite so cocky if I were you." With one final flick he sent a bound James hurtling towards the pins. Sirius turned around and began bowing even before James body expertly knocked all the pins down.

Laughter and appreciative applause broke out over Sirius' antics before James shook himself loose from the rubble, grinning and jumping on his friend's back.

"I knew you were good for something, Padfoot!" James cried, before releasing his squirming friend.

In a quick response, Aubrey managed to work a strike of his own. It almost did not seem as if the final corner pin would go down but, with the last spin of Frank's body, his shoulder brushed the last pin hard enough to get it to fall, to applause from the crowd and groans from James and Sirius.

After a moment, James composed himself and, glaring with the competitiveness of a Quidditch captain at his opponents, he roughly grabbed Sirius and positioned him directly in front of the pins.

"One throw each, folks," Remus announced, "The team of James Potter and Sirius Black need at least nine pins to pull assure themselves of victory. Eight pins would guarantee a tie. Because of their strike at the beginning of the frame they get two throws."

James took a moment to carefully consider the situation. Calming himself, not letting his temper get the best of him, he realized that as long as he avoided an awful split, he could probably give himself a spare opportunity and grab a win. Carefully, remembering not to go for too much, too soon, he gestured in a complex manner with his wand, sending Sirius towards the pins.

There was a collective breath held that the Gryffindors watching let out in a groan when only seven pins went down. The three remaining, however, were all tightly grouped in one corner. Smirking and pulling himself from the debris, Sirius walked with determination towards Betram and Frank.

"This," He began, waving his wand about in James direction, "Is how you win a game of bowing," With a quick flick, James was sent soaring at the remaining pins and, with a great Gryffindor cheer, all three went down.

"Marauders win!" Peter exclaimed, to the cheers of the general populace.

Nobody questioned why, during the entire commotion in a very public part of Hogwart's, that no teachers bothered to question them or interrupt their game or why the prefects or head students hadn't interfered. In the case of student leadership, most of them were in fact participating, unable to help themselves to a bit of fun in such a rough time.

In the case of the teachers, unbeknown to the students, many were in fact watching the festivities from various vantage points without interrupting.

Later, Dumbledore would tell his staff, "Yes, we, in fact, should probably have stopped the students from their game in the hallway. However, in an age such of this, I cannot bring myself to remove the smiles from their faces.

* * * * * * * *

It worked.

For a little while, it worked.

For the next week, it seemed as if life at Hogwart's had returned to normal. The Marauders, taking great joy in their new role as the emotional leaders of the school, took to staging more activities in the halls between classes, in their own common room and, generally, wherever they could.

One day, having come across a second year being bullied, instead of hexing the perpetrator into oblivion as had been their way previously, they instead cast a quick _Petrificus Totalus_ on the fifth year Slytherin and let the younger boy kick his bully in a particularly sensitive portion of his anatomy.

Another time, in the Gryffindor Common Room, the Marauders held their own brand of study party for the fifth and seventh years, which was formatted much like a game show, and students who answered their questions correctly were rewarded with prizes ranging from the desired (Chocolate frogs and their accompanying cards) to the hilariously absurd (A plush mountain troll with realistic drooling).

As the days ticked by without a article proclaiming more bad news in the Daily Prophet, life little by little returned to the castle. Students began to walk with more of a spring in their step. Teachers began to become more creative and inventive with their classes (Flitwick, with the weather growing warmer, allowed a class outside but only if every student could charm their class supplies to dance to a set rhythm while following them).

On a Friday near the end of March, and the school beginning to titter about what the Marauders might have planned for a April Fool's Day prank, a single owl carrying a black envelope that had been stamped by the Ministry of Magic slipped through the morning festivities.

No one knew what a black envelope meant. Not yet. In the months to come, and in the following year, everyone would instantaneously know to dread the appearance of a black, Ministry stamped envelope. But, in March of 1976, it was as yet an unknown quantity.

It fell, almost as in slow motion. It had attracted a bit of curiosity, as most mail could be identified visually long before it ever actually made it to the morning table in the Great Hall. It was heading towards the Gryffindor table, that much was certain to all who observed it, that first black envelope.

With a sickeningly soft and dull sound, it landed in front of Lily Evans. She looked at it curiously for a moment, unsure what exactly to make of it, before extracting the letter. Her emerald green eyes darted back and forth as she read it quickly. She always was a quick reader. Incredulous disbelief filled her features before being washed away and replaced with unmistakable and unfathomable sadness.

She wouldn't cry. No one ever saw Lily Evans cry in public before. She resolutely crumpled the letter in her hand, stuffed it viciously into her school robes, and left the Great Hall quick enough to know that there was still sadness in her step, but not quick enough for anyone to get the impression that the news contained in the black, Ministry stamped envelope would destroy her.

Of course, though, it would destroy her.

That prank, the one with Alice and Frank?

It worked.

For a little while, it worked.


	3. Flames

Above all else, Lily Evans was glad that she hadn't cried in front of everyone. Thanking Merlin that she had a free period after lunch, she went up to her dorm room and sat on her bed, staring out the window. It didn't quite seem real, yet. She knew it would. Soon. But she didn't want to be around anyone when it happened.

She took the crumpled piece of parchment from her bag, tossing the black envelope carelessly to the side. She folded out the piece of paper again and stared at the words on the page, her eyes blurring as she read one more time what she couldn't bring herself to believe.

_Ms. Evans,_

_At approximately 9:15pm, your parents, Mr. and Mrs. Douglas Evans, were killed via the Killing Curse by Death Eaters, along with several other Muggles in an attack on a calculated attack in Manchester._

_We are sincerely sorry for your loss,_

_Minister Ian Richards_

Lily stared uncomprehendingly at the words, "We are sincerely sorry for your loss," completely unable to process them. They seemed so wildly ridiculous, impersonal and uncaring. Did they even mean anything?

Before she really acknowledge the fact she was crying, she realized that the tears felt hot on her face. Their warmth seeming inappropriate given the cold chill penetrating her organs. As she quietly felt them slide down her face, she still tried vainly to bury her emotions. She noticed that the tears were falling haphazardly onto the parchment and made a big show, even if just to herself, of taking the letter and folding it back into it's damned black envelope.

She tucked it neatly back into it's original container and tossed it onto her nightstand.

The sound that the envelope made as it landed lightly on her nightstand was of no consequence whatsoever but, somehow, Lily felt herself drawn to it. In some unexplainable way, the sound switched something inside of her and the enormity of the situation crashed down on the red-headed prefect.

Alone in the sanctity of her dorm, she allowed herself to break.

* * * * * * * *

Lily awoke, vaguely startled that, from observing the window, the sun was setting.

"Hey, Lily," Her friend, Michelle McDonald, said softly, coming to the side of her bed.

"What time is it?" Lily asked, confusedly.

"It's around eight. Dumbledore told us to let you sleep," Michelle said, watching Lily with a delicate expression on her face.

"Oh," Lily said.

"Remus has your homework for the day, you know, if you're up for it," Michelle continued.

"Why wouldn't I be up for it?" Lily asked, before realizing. Immediately she began to feel the tears coming on again.

"It's okay, honey," Michelle said, holding Lily to her, "Let it out."

"It can't be real," Lily murmured, "It shouldn't be real."

"I know," Michelle whispered, pulling the curtains around Lily's bed and casting a silencing charm.

For a minute or two, Michelle simply hugged her crying friend, trying to be there desperately for someone who had always been there for her.

"They're dead," Lily croaked out between sobs.

"Who?" Michelle asked. The student body hadn't been informed of why Lily had run out; Lily's classmates had only been informed that a something terribly tragic had occurred, pertaining to her. The Daily Prophet, of course, reported the attack and many had come to the conclusion that someone close to her had died, but no one knew who.

"My parents," Lily whispered, breaking into sobs again.

"Oh, honey," Michelle said, beginning to cry as well, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The pair cried for a few minutes until Lily, still emotionally exhausted, fell asleep.

Michelle tucked her friend in, still trying to gather her emotions.

There was a war going on, somewhere beyond the walls of Hogwart's. The disappearances and mysterious deaths had sapped the life out of the school, and that was only when none of the student body had been affected. The Marauders, they had turned things around for a few days, but even boys as joyous and talented as them could only hold back reality for so long. Eventually, facts - disastrous, crushing facts - were too much for even magic to deal with.

It was enough to make anyone cry.

Michelle looked back at Lily, somehow looking peaceful in her slumber. Michelle let a few tears fall silently down her face. What could any of them do, now? When the reality had struck so close to home? She looked idly at the envelope on Lily's nightstand. What could any of them do when those damned black envelopes could fall at any time?

* * * * * * * *

In response to her tragedy, Lily threw herself into her schoolwork. Her fiery red-headed temper had increased dramatically and she was prone to snap, even at her friends, over the most mundane of things. Those closest to her understood intimately and didn't hold it against her. Those who knew only that she was dealing with a tragedy still didn't hold it against her, she had worked up an abundance of goodwill over her years at Hogwart's.

When not in class, she was most often found in the library, pushing thoughts of her family out of her mind by finishing schoolwork that wasn't due for at least a week, if not more. To some extent, the endeavor worked, concerning herself intimately with the details of subjects as in-depth and utterly mind-numbing as History of Magic or Arithmancy, she was able to avoid most thoughts of her family. Goblin Wars and complex magical theory were both mentally exhausting enough that she could concentrate so much on them that she could block out any other thoughts that attempted to penetrate her process.

For the most part.

Of course, there were some moments and some triggers, a word or a scent, that could bring tears to Lily's eyes. She fought them, but sometimes it was too much and she was forced to retreat back to her dorm to quietly cry in peace.

She was in the Library today, working on a Transfiguration assignment, allowing frustration to wash over her. Normally she would fight it and try to approach her difficulties with the subject in a rational way. However, taking time to collect her thoughts was, as of late, too dangerous. The frustration was an avoidance mechanism of infinite effectiveness.

A figure sat down next to her, causing her to glance over. It was her friend in Hufflepuff, Amos Diggory. The pair had been getting closer and, as he was a fairly attractive member of the student body, and a prefect, many thought it was only a matter of time before they got together. Honestly, even Lily was surprised that, prior to her letter, he had not asked her to Hogsmeade. Now, she could barely bring herself to think about Hogsmeade, much less burgeoning romance.

"Hey," Amos said quietly.

"Hi," Lily responded.

"How've you been?" Amos asked, waiting a moment before adding, "I'm sorry, that was a stupid question."

"No, no," Lily assured him, "It's fine. It's a natural question to ask. I'd answer it if I knew how."

A pained smile pulled on Amos' features, "Well, I mean, I don't know what happened, but would you like to talk with me about it?"

Lily took a moment to look at Amos. He had well-kept, short, light brown hair that framed his blue eyes. When he smiled, a single dimple appeared on the left side of his face. He was always kind, never pushy, and was always willing to be there when someone needed him. It was just his way.

"Thanks, Amos," Lily said, smiling at him, "But, I'd rather not."

"Oh," Amos said, his genial smile faltering for a moment, "That's okay. Totally understandable."

Amos quietly lifted himself out of the seat next to Lily's and began to make his way towards the entrance to the Library.

He had fancied Lily for some time now but, as happened to be an unfortunate character trait of many Hufflepuffs, he did not always have the courage to act on his desires. He wished he could simply bring himself to ask her out, but found her dominant personality occasionally intimidating. It always seemed that whenever he had worked up enough courage to do it, was when she was at her most riled and it tended to suck the strength out of him.

"Amos?" Lily called quietly.

"Yeah," He asked, eagerly, turning around to face her.

"Thank you, regardless," She said kindly, smiling at him before returning to her Transfiguration.

"Yeah, no problem," He said, though it barely seemed like she heard.

It was for moments like that that he, and just about every other sixth-year, found himself enamored with her.

* * * * * * * *

Later that evening, Lily found herself lying in the bed in her dorm room, absolutely unable to fall asleep. Every other sixth year girl was quietly sleeping away, unafraid of their dreams. Lily's dreams always seemed to be terrible, since the letter. Her subconscious dragged up new, inventive, horrifying and utterly impossible scenarios for the deaths of her parents. She had gone to Madam Pomfrey for some Dreamless Sleep Potion, but had forgotten to get more for that evening. As consequence, she found herself unable to sleep and very, very frustrated about the fact.

She hauled herself out of her bed and down the steps of the dorm into the Common Room. She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, idly staring at the jumping flames. There was something beautiful in the colors and movement of the fire. Something primal and infinite, especially in magical fire that never went out. The idea of such permanence brought tears to Lily's eyes for a few moments. She heard low footsteps coming from the direction of the boys dormitories and she quickly pulled herself together before the late-night sleepwalker could see her tears.

"Evans?" The voice of James Potter quietly asked.

For a moment she didn't respond, merely found dug up and amplified the minute frustration that she felt into something more significant. Of course, it had to be him that would find her at this hour.

"Yes, Potter?" She questioned.

"Sorry, just, didn't know if it was you," He said quietly, slipping into the chair that was adjacent to her couch.

Silence passed, equal parts awkward, comfortable and intentional before curiosity got the best of Lily.

"What are you doing up?" She asked.

"Worried," He said, though he seemed to instantly regret the words.

"Worried?" She asked, surprised at the word coming out of the carefree boy's mouth, "About what?"

He hesitated for a moment, looking warily in her direction before answering.

"About you," He finally concluded, turning his attention determinedly towards the flickering flames.

"What for?" She scoffed, though she knew the answer.

"Evans, don't be daft," He quickly replied, meaning to keep the comment in good humor, though immediately realizing that any comment that could be construed as forward would get him in trouble. He put his hand to his mouth, looking up towards the ceiling in disbelief.

"What?" Lily said, her eyes narrowing.

"I just meant, that of course everyone is worried about you. I just said it bad," He attempted to cover up for his mistake.

She found she couldn't work up the anger to yell at him when he was obviously trying to backtrack, so she decided to let the comment slide. It was just so Potter, to let his mouth lead before his brain. She knew he and the Marauders were intelligent, and singularly gifted wizards as well, but she was amazed with just how irresponsible and lackadaisical they could be.

"So, what happened?" James asked.

Lily looked at him in shock. Nearly everyone had been more than accommodating and gentle when the asked her about her current state. She couldn't believe how tactless and abrupt James was being.

"I don't want to talk about it, Potter," She said, turning away from him.

"Yeah, you do," James replied immediately.

She couldn't believe it. It was infuriatingly different from how everyone else was treating her. When all everyone else was being was supportive, careful and kind, here came James Potter. He was challenging, pushy and so confident in the tone of his voice. It was his way, and she could barely stand it.

"Excuse me?" She glowered.

"You do!" James insisted, "You're practically going to explode, Evans. You need to get whatever is in you out before it blows you right up. I can't stand to see you and everybody who knows you so lifeless and careful and sad."

"Careful," Lily spat, focusing only on one word of James sentence, "You say that like it's so horrible."

"Sometimes it is," James said, quietly but forcefully, "If you're being so careful about how you feel, you're just going to make yourself miserable."

"I'd be miserable even if I shouted it to the whole school!" Lily yelled.

"Maybe," James continued, undeterred, "But wouldn't you take maybe being miserable over definitely being miserable?"

Unable to come up with a reply, Lily kept quiet. She mulled over James' words for a few moments, staring at the fire. It never ended. It was a miracle. Something that never ended. As far as she could imagine, and even farther, that fire would never stop flickering. Her children, her grandchildren, even their grandchildren, would live and die and the flame would still flicker.

"That fire always makes me think of hope," James said, wistfully, having noticed Lily's gaze, "It'll be around long after Voldemort has fallen, long enough for people to have made new lives for themselves. Long enough for this castle to just be full of happy children, putting off their homework until tomorrow."

She couldn't help but begin to cry at James' speech. She held her eyes closed as tightly as she could, attempting to will away the tears. But she couldn't. They began to slip, unwanted, down her face. For the second time that week, she found herself giving in.

"They're dead," She whispered, so quietly she didn't expect James to hear, "My parents are dead."

"Oh, Lily," James said, the use of her first name breaking down her defenses even further, "I'm so bloody sorry." He got up from his chair, sitting down next to her and hugging her gently. Lily couldn't even find the energy to make a snarky comment about his dream coming true; She was crying too hard.

After a few minutes, James felt Lily's tears subside and he allowed her to sit back up on her own. He smiled, a genuine smile at her.

"Told you you wanted to talk about it," He said, cheekily.

"Oh, Merlin," Lily tried to sigh, but ended up laughing, "How are you always so bloody annoying?"

"Sheer talent," James immediately replied.

Lily laughed again, but it died away in her throat.

"It feels wrong," She explained, "To be laughing now."

"Yeah," James said, nodding, "I know."

For some reason, that comment lit something inside of Lily, and anger bubbled up in her stomach, "How could you possibly know? Spoiled, rich, little James Potter?"

James, shocked, turned towards her, scooting away from her on the couch.

"Lily, I-" He started.

"No," Lily near-shouted, standing up, "Don't call me Lily. You don't know _anything_ about what this feels like," Here she pointed a finger violently in his direction, "Okay? _Nothing_."

James, frustrated, stood up, his hands up in a gesture of surrender, "You know what, you're right. I don't know what you're going through," He conceded, still managing a bit of anger through it, "But we've all got shit, Evans. Not just you."

Not allowing Lily any sort of response, he turned and stomped up the stairs to the boys dorm rooms. Lily, shocked and still upset, began to cry in earnest again, sitting down on again on the couch. She was amazed at Potter's inability to leave things alone, his desire to meddle and always be in everything. How dare he come after her, given what she was going through?

After a moment's reflection, she shook her head, letting out a sob again. She realized that what upset her most wasn't that he had been so direct, so blunt and so unafraid to tell her what he thought. What made her most upset was that he was right.

* * * * * * * *

She woke up in the Common Room around five or six in the morning, to find that the couch had been transfigured large enough for her to fit comfortably on it and that she was covered with several warm, cozy blankets. Next to her was a one word note.

_Sorry._

_- James_


	4. You Gotta Have Both

It was hard to believe the differences in Wizarding England compared to Muggle England. In Muggle England, punk rock was being born, a rally against the psychedelic era that had prevaded much of the earlier decade. The Muggle economy was struggling through a rough decade, though some sparks of life were beginning to show. People were angry, but you could see the light of life on every Muggle's face. They were fighting.

Wizarding England wasn't concerned with fighting any status quo. A crafty Minister of Magic, Ian Richards, had secured their spot as one of the world's premiere Wizarding nations, and a global Wizarding currency helped ensure a prosperous financial status for their nation. Their complacency, however, had undermined them. In a decade where much of the Wizarding population was worry-free, it had left its underbelly exposed, with enough room for a conniving, powerful Dark wizard to sneak through the cracks.

The attack in Manchester, an attack that was wildly public and impossibly out in the open, suddenly showed how big those cracks had become. As Muggle England was beginning to show signs of life, Wizarding England was having the life sucked out of it. The attack was a demoralizing blow for the populace, one that was willing to write off the recent rash of disappearances and strange deaths as something less than sinister, and forced them to come to grips with the reality of dark times ahead.

Young people are always more willing to see things changing than their older counterparts. The dread mood that had hung over Hogwart's since the beginning of the 1975/1976 school year was a precursor, a foreshadowing, of the war that was coming. For a short while, the Marauders had lifted the deadened spirit of the school. Not enough to change the world outside, but enough to ignore it, until a black envelope - a color that would come to signify death for those inside the castle - was dropped surreptitiously in front of a red-headed, muggle-born, Gryffindor prefect.

The mood came crashing down and, for those who knew anything of the two worlds, it was hard to believe the differences between the two.

* * * * * * * *

Lily stared at the two records, incredulous. They were both new releases, one from a Muggle band, one from from the Wizarding world. The idea that both kinds of music could be around, be in people's mind, at the same time, seemed ridiculous. The Sex Pistols' _Never Mind the Bollocks_ was full of personality, fire, quick and angry retorts. A will to fight, even if, especially if, there was nothing to actually fight. The Bubble Charms' _Different Shades of Grey_ sat next to it, a record whose tone was both trying to ignore the hardships of the time, yet still wholly lifeless because of them.

The fact that both belonged to James Potter was surprising to Lily, to say the least.

Their late night meetings had accidentally become a sort of silent routine. Every night that Lily couldn't fall asleep in her dorm, she'd come out to find James, staring at the fire. The night immediately after their fight, she was frustrated to find him there again. It felt, somehow, that he was invading her space, though he was actually there before her. Lily sat down again on the couch, too stubborn not to claim her own stake of the Common Room.

The two had sat in silence, acknowledging, yet not acknowledging, the other. After about an hour of silence, James had slouched in his seat, his eyelids drooping heavily. He stifled a yawn as he had made to pull the chair out into a recliner.

"You were right," Lily had said quietly, interrupting his action.

"'Course I was," James had mumbled sleepily, "'Bout what?"

"Other people have problems, too, and-" Lily had began.

"Merlin, Evans, you choose then, of all times, to listen to me?" James had said, rolling his head back onto the chair, "Your parents died."

Lily stiffened, still unused to James abrupt tactlessness when dealing with the situation, "I think I know that, thanks," she had said, turning away from him.

"Bloody hell, you know what I mean," James had replied, "That you should have just wrote it off as me being a prat and left it."

James comment was met with silence. Lily did her best to not feel awkward in the space their words were occupying a few seconds ago, but found she couldn't do it.

"Thing is," She had began, her tone softer, "For once, you _weren't_ being a prat."

"Well, whatever," James had said, his tone acknowledging both aspects of the back-handed compliment, "It's over. Let's just enjoy the fire."

With that evening, the ritual had begun. Lily spent only two or three nights a week sleeping in the Common Room, but she suspected that James had been spending every night there. She also began to suspect that his friends didn't know. Every morning at about four, James would wake up and sneak back up to his dorm, inevitably prompting Lily to do the same.

The dorm had turned into an awkward place for her. While she had many friends among the girls, she avoided talking about the situation with any of them, even Michelle. For their part, the girls let her have her space, offering words of encouragement or simply a smile.

The mood around Hogwart's, however, had darkened. The Marauders had stopped their games in the wake of the black envelope and the morale of the castle had suffered as a result. The whispers and paranoia that had cropped up over the course of the school year had returned in spades, more aggressive for its short hiatus.

Lily could feel the glances as she walked the halls. People fell into one of two categories, it seemed, those that seemed to treat her as glass, as if she might break at any moment, and those who, Lily thought, resented her for the returned awful Hogwart's mood. While many of the students who Lily mentally accused this of did not, in fact, feel this way, the perception of such emotions was beginning to drive Lily crazy.

It was this feeling that drove the night she had received the two vinyl records she was looking at now.

After a particularly difficult lesson, one in which she could feel the stares of students on her with an intensity she had never felt before, she had stormed into the Gryffindor Common Room, knowing full well that the Marauders had free period. Predictably, the foursome had been there, playing a rather uninspired game of Exploding Snap.

"What is your _problem_?!" Lily had demanded of the group in general, though looking at James specifically.

"Uh," James had began, "Hi, Evans?"

"Get over here," She had growled dangerously.

James looked back at his friends, questions playing on his lips. Sirius and Remus had shrugged, obviously unsure of what to make of Lily's outburst. Peter was simply watching, shrinking back a bit from Lily's obvious anger. James begrudgingly left the card game, allowing Lily to pull him into an alcove of the Common Room.

"I ask again, _what is your problem_?" Lily had asked in a deadly hiss.

"Evans," James had began calmly, trying to ignore their proximity, "I. Don't. Know. What. You're. Talking. About."

At the perceived slight on her intelligence, Lily had punched James in the arm.

"No pranks for the past week and a half," Lily had began, getting into a rant, "It's almost April Fool's and Remus told me on patrol the other day that you guys aren't doing anything. The entire school is looking to you for how to act and ever since my," Here Lily stumbled, "Ever since that blasted envelope, you've been acting... acting..." Lily searched for a word, but couldn't find one, "I don't know! But everyone is mad at me for how you're acting and I shouldn't have to bloody deal with that!"

"Merlin, Lily," James had said back in a low voice, "We put off on the pranks and games out of bloody _respect_," James stressed the word with a definitive hand gesture.

"Oh, please," Lily had scoffed, "You barely respect any of the teachers, let alone me."

"No one blames you for your parents dying," James had continued, ignoring Lily's interjection, "That's just you being crazy,"

"Crazy?!" Lily had exclaimed loudly, drawing some attention to their conversation. James, annoyed, cast a quick _Muffiato_, turning Lily around in the alcove and shooting an annoyed glance at the other Common Room inhabitants.

"Wow," Lily had continued, angrily, "Crazy. I'm in grief and you're calling me crazy. You're such a bloody wonderful person, James."

"You are!" James had hissed, "It's not our fault people around the school are looking at you like you might explode. Hell, Evans, you've barely talked to anyone about any of this-"

"And how would you know that?!" Lily had replied.

"I've talked to some of the Gryffindor sixth year girls," James had admitted, trying to gloss over the fact. Taking advantage of the shocked expression on Lily's face, he had continued, "And I've been in the library sometimes when Diggory or someone else tries to ask you about it. You're strong, Evans, but you can't keep it all inside."

"And how would you know about any of this?" Lily had demanded, again unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind his words. The idea of a James Potter who knew something about life, knew something about grief, was something she couldn't immediately process.

"Christ, Evans," James had spat, walking away without another word.

Later that night, again unable to sleep, she slipped down to the Common Room, somehow still surprised to see James down there. It was a form of Gryffindor bravery that drove her to sit next to him in what she had mentally come to call "her" couch, bravery to face someone who you knew you had upset.

"We're going to trade," James had said, startling her with his statement that had been, seemingly apropos nothing.

"What?" Lily had asked.

"I'm going to tell you how I 'would know about any of this'," James had said, using air quotes to sarcastically throw her words from earlier that day back at her, "And you're going to talk about how you're feeling about your parents."

"You can't just _make_ someone talk about something, Potter," Lily had scoffed.

"This isn't a negotiation," James had said shortly.

"_Fine_," Lily stamped out.

James had not taken his eyes off of the fireplace since Lily had come down, but, after a quick moment of silence, he tore his gaze away from the everlasting flame and caught eyes with her. Lily didn't make any outward reaction, but she noticed quickly how intense his gaze was, and the sadness that lay beneath them.

"My parents are old," James had started simply.

He had paused for a few moments, trying to think of how to continue. In the awkward silence, Lily, not sure where this was going, had let out a half-chuckle, "What?"

"I know," James had acquiesced, "Dumb way to begin, but it's true. They're old. A lot older than most of the parents."

"Okay," Lily had prompted, still not understanding.

"A few years ago, second year it was, they both came down with _Cardiactus_," At Lily's confused look, he had continued, "It's a Wizard's disease. It affects the heart."

James had looked back towards the flames, unable to see the soft expression on Lily's face. He had been silent for a long two or three minutes, lost in his own world. She could barely make out his face, but Lily could see the fear in his eyes, something she had never expected to see from James Potter.

"James," Lily had finally said quietly, reaching out towards him.

Quickly, James had spun back towards Lily, causing her to quickly retract her hand, "I don't know if you've ever seen an older person with a Wizarding illness..." James had said, willfully ignoring the moment that had just passed, "Magic helps a person's body stay younger, yeah? So when they get sick like that, well, most Wizard's illnesses attack a person's magic. The first thing to go is their outward appearance."

Here James had taken an unnecessarily large breath, looking away again. This time, however, he didn't let the silence pervade for very long.

"I'm watching my parents die," James had said plainly, in the blunt, abrupt way that Lily was now coming to see was just a part of his character, "For four years, I've been watching them die. And, fucking hell, this sounds selfish, but I envy you. I envy you for not having to watch your parents slowly disintegrate. I hate watching them walk around and try to do things as if nothing is different, when it is. When they have to sit down after walking across a room. When they pour themselves wine but don't drink it at dinner."

"I'm sorry," Lily had whispered. She wasn't sure if he had heard her or was simply ignoring her when he plowed on.

"Sirius is moving in after school this summer," James had said, "They love him. He gets them to act a little bit stronger. But _fuck_," James cursed, his hand crashing down on his knee.

There was a long silence. James had, once again, turned his attention to the Common Room fireplace, finding some sort of solace there.

"I'm not sure where I'll go after school," Lily had said, snapping James out of his stupor, "My sister and I haven't been close ever since I got my letter from Hogwart's. In third year she wrote Dumbledore to see if she could get in, even though she was a Muggle, and I read his reply. I don't think she's ever trusted me again after that."

She had paused, looking at James, who was staring back at her, encouragingly. It was funny, she had taken a moment to notice, how it was James Potter, with his bullying insistence, his utter refusal to be tactful, was the one who finally was getting her to talk.

"So, it's like I don't have her, either," Lily had continued, "She moved in with her boyfriend on her 18th birthday. She was so angry with our parents for treating me like the precious daughter. She just wanted to get away. Sometimes I think it might be harder for her, having to have held all that anger in towards them and now never being able to deal with it properly."

Lily had sighed, thinking of how to continue, she had been slightly surprised that she hadn't started crying yet, "Sometimes I don't know what I'm supposed to do? How do you live with no parents? I'm doing it right now, but I still don't know the answer. I mean," At this moment she had looked at James directly in the eyes, a sort of helplessness in her features, "How do you act the way you do? So carefree and happy? With what's going on?"

James had smiled slightly, pulling a pair of square objects from his backpack that he had lying at his feet, "Figured it would come to that question," He had said, vaguely amused, "Listen to both of these, Lily," He handed her the two records, Lily taking them without looking at them. She was still looking at James oddly, as if to question what he was doing, "You gotta have both," is all James had replied.

He had walked back up to his dorm, then, leaving a flabbergasted Lily behind. She walked back up to her own dorm, looking at the records in turn. She hadn't heard either of them, but could see the duality even in their covers. The pink, gaudy cover the Sex Pistols record was a stark contrast the black and gray cover of the Bubble Charms.

When she listened to both of them, back to back, she understood what James meant. He wasn't just talking about moods, or music. He was talking, in a subtle way, about Muggles and Wizards, about ideologies and history and culture. But mostly, he was talking about his own personal life manifesto: You made it through by accepting that you couldn't always make it through. You fought even if there was nothing to actually fight, but even harder when there was. It was okay to feel defeated, as long as you weren't.

You had to have both.

Lily put down both the records, knowing that her free period was almost over. On her way out towards her class, she ran into Remus.

"Tell James that you guys should do your April Fool's prank. For me," She said, not stopping to see his reply or reaction. She walked, smiling genuinely and fully for the first time since the black envelope, to her class.

"Okay," was all Remus could say, even though she had already gone.


	5. Dreams

It wasn't, by the phrase's strictest definition, a recurring dream. Recurring dreams happen the same every time. The same people, the same chronology, the same actions, the same consequences. James' dreams, of late, couldn't be qualified as recurring dreams because they were different every time.

What made them seem, to James, recurring dreams, was that they were thematically linked. Every dream seemed to have the same concept. He was himself in these dreams, and he was supposed to be protecting someone. Sometimes multiple people, sometimes individuals, sometimes animals, sometimes just ideas. He would do everything he could, everything in his power to fight but, inevitably, he would fail. He would die.

James Potter believed in destiny and, in fact, destiny was the only way he got through much of his life. He was insistent on the idea that he and Lily Evans were destined to be together, he knew Voldemort was destined to fall. Even as a first year, he thought it was Sirius' destiny to sit beside him on the Hogwart's Express, destiny that he would become a Gryffindor.

James thought Divination was bollocks, of course. To him, destiny wasn't a quantifiable idea. You couldn't read destiny in tea leaves or crystal balls. It was something internal. You could feel your own destiny; you could see it, walking beside you like a doppleganger or a shadow.

The problem with living by destiny's rules, of course, is that you have to die by them, too.

After every dream, James woke up in a cold sweat.

He would realize where he was - inevitably, the Gryffindor Common Room, in a couch adjacent to the one Lily Evans might or might not be sleeping that evening - more not than otherwise, lately. He would realize the time - again, inevitably, 4 A.M. He would sneak back into the sixth year boys dormitory, which wasn't a difficult feat over Wormtail's snores, and wait for his alarm to go off at 7 without sleeping another wink.

James wondered who he was supposed to be protecting. Peter seemed a logical choice. While Peter had magical talent, his complete lack of confidence and need for guidance often forced him into situations in which he needed help from the other Marauders. Remus, too, seemed a likely candidate. His dangerous secret would always need protecting, even if Remus himself did not. Sirius was the least likely of his friends to need James protection, though James would always give it.

Extending beyond his circle of friends, James realized that it could be any witch, wizard or Muggle in the world. In times like these, dark times, everyone needed protection. James was always very accepting of his destinies, good or bad. He accepted that he would die trying to protect someone, something, anyone, everything. But it would never stop him from fighting.

* * * * * * * *

The weekend before April Fool's Day in 1976 was supposed to be a Hogsmeade weekend but, in the wake of the Manchester attacks, it was cancelled. There was too much risk involved in allowing thirteen to seventeen year olds away from the wards and protections of Hogwart's. To make up for this, the Head Boy and Girl were allowed to put together a social gathering in the Great Hall. Had the Head students had more time to prepare, they told the prefects one meeting, they would have made it a dance, but as it was, they simply decided to clear the tables, provide food and drinks and allow students to mingle in a less supervised manner. To the members of the student body who were favorites of Professor Slughorn, it seemed a lot like an overblown Slug Club meeting, though, thankfully, without the incessant name-dropping from the Potions Master.

The students had taken to treating the whole ordeal much as they would the normal Hogsmeade weekend, much as was the point. Though they couldn't sit for a pint of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks or stock up on their supplies of sweets at Honeydukes, the students took what was given to them without complaint.

Alice and Frank had their first opportunity to "come out" together, as it were - or, rather, as the Marauders took chagrin in referring to it as. Though embarrassed by the rather public knowledge and interest in their relationship, they took it in stride. It was a small price to pay for happiness.

Late on the Wednesday evening before the dance, Lily was working on an essay for Ancient Runes. She still found herself occasionally doing thins like this: Holing herself up in the library to try to avoid the grief and pain of her parents death. She still hadn't talked about it with anyone, save James, and she was trying to forget that she had.

After the night with the records, Lily had softened a bit towards James but, in that softening, she also found herself coming into contact with him much less. Her gruesome nightmares had diminished and she was no able to sleep through the night, so their short tradition of late-night gatherings in the common room had been unceremoniously and abruptly ended. She had some classes with him but he and the Marauders had seemed to have taken her message of an April Fool's Day prank to heart and, with time dwindling, it seemed that all their efforts were concentrated on that.

She didn't mind it, really. While James' help with her emotions had been welcome, it had also been out of the ordinary. She didn't feel much like dealing with too much out of the ordinary in her current state. It just seemed to reminder of that which was truly out of the ordinary: Her missing, deceased, parents.

She shuffled a bit from the books she had spread out around her as she heard someone heading in her general direction from the entrance of the library. Finding it was Amos Diggory, she smiled at him. Amos smiled back, taking a seat across from her, studying the books around her.

"Runes, huh?" He quipped.

"Yep," Lily replied.

"Can't possibly imagine how much fun you're having," He said, laughingly.

"Oh?" Lily questioned, raising an eyebrow, "And how do you know Runes isn't my _favorite_ class?"

"Please," Amos scoffed, "Whose favorite class is Runes? I mean, I'm the best in my class at Runes, Professor Glaston loves me and it's still maybe only my third, fourth favorite class."

Lily laughed, shaking her head a bit, "Alright," she relented, "It's not my favorite class."

"And that essay isn't due until Monday," Amos continued, "So there's really no need for you to be doing it now?"

"Yes, well..." Lily began, but trailed off uncertainly.

Uncertain how to deal with the sudden awkward pause, both Lily and Amos shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

"There's that dance thing, or whatever," Lily said uncertainly, "And I figure I just want to be prepared for the coming week without having to worry at that thing about any impending Runes essays," she finished, convincing herself of the reasoning.

"Right, Slug Club Plus," Amos agreed, suddenly nervous.

"Is that what they're calling it?" Lily laughed, "That's clever."

"Black came up with it, I think," Amos said, nodding in agreement.

"It would be one of them," Lily said, with a combination of a laugh and a sigh.

"So, you're planning on going, then?" Amos asked, rather tightly.

"I was thinking on it, yes," Lily said, looking back down at her Ancient Runes essay, "Oh, bugger," she exhaled, "That's not right."

"Would you like to go with me?" Amos asked quickly, wanting to get it out, but not realizing that Lily's attention had shifted to her paper. The next few seconds that passed while Lily sorted out her essay put visibly strain on his features.

"Sorry," Lily said, looking back up at Amos, "What was that you asked?"

"Would you go to the thing this weekend with me?" He said again, this time with much less apprehension.

"Oh, Amos," Lily smiled sadly at him, "Thank you so much for the offer, but I'm not really interested in getting into anything like that right now," Her smile faltered a bit, and sadness swept through her for a quick moment at the truth in her statement, "I'm sorry, I'll have to decline. Thank you, though."

"Oh," Amos said, sullenly, "It's no problem. No problem."

Amos turned away and quickly left Lily to her own devices. Lily smiled sadly to herself. She knew, emotionally, she wasn't ready to deal with any sort of relationship in her life. She needed her life, for this moment, especially, to be drama free. She knew that a relationship would be anything but that. It wasn't the right time and, for awhile, it probably wouldn't be.

* * * * * * * *

To Lily, James Potter seemed a bit like eating a fruit salad blindfolded. You never knew what exactly you were going to get. She had seen many sides to him recently, sides she had previously never before encountered. She knew that some of the reason for that was her friendship with Severus and now, devoid of his friendship, she was able to see James differently than she had before.

He was loyal to his friends. That was the first thing that struck her. He told them nearly everything, as if they were his human diaries. She also saw his youthful exuberance, his passion for fun, his utter mischievousness. These were surface impressions, though, onces that could be gathered from any impartial observer, though Lily had been anything but impartial.

It was in their few nights of midnight meetings that she saw sides of James that she thought confidently that few, if any, had seen. His vulnerability was striking, mostly because of his vehement denial of it. He someone was able to appear vulnerable while fighting the very idea of letting his guard down. She saw how much he tended to deflect his emotions, whether it be with a prank designed to lift his own spirits, or giving a pair of records to a young girl instead of a straight answer, he wore his heart on his sleeve without ever letting it known that he had much of a heart.

And it seemed, in public, that he would do anything to try and deny the fact that the James Potter who existed between midnight and 4 A.M. in the Gryffindor Common Room existed. He also seemed to be determined to make it seem to the whole of Gryffindor that the only James Potter who did exist was the one who pranked Snape a little under a year ago after O.W.L. exams.

"Evans!" James shouted across the Common Room the following evening, from a game of Wizard's Chess with Sirius.

It startled her for a moment as this was the first he had spoken to her outside of their late night meetings in quite awhile. "Yes?" She replied, looking up from the book she was reading.

"Slug Club Plus. You. Me. Yeah? No?" He asked, his grin threatening to split his face. Sirius began laughing at the question in earnest, his snappish guffaw sounding a bit like a dog's bark. Remus couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head.

"No, Potter. I don't think you can come, anyway, there's a standard for decorum that I'm fairly certain you couldn't possibly meet." Lily said, dryly, causing some students around her to laugh.

"Nice one, Evans!" James enthused, causing more laughter, "Honestly. Clever, creative. I'm impressed!" With that, he turned back to his game of Wizard's Chess, thoroughly nonplussed.

Lily shook her head, returning to her book. She couldn't understand, given even her most vehement denials, why he insisted on drudging that age old question up every once in awhile. She thought it was a shame how he seemed so very much like two different people. Intriguing, perhaps, but a shame.

* * * * * * * *

Patrol, in recent months, had become more and more unnerving for the prefects. Where, once, it was more likely than not only to stumble across a few broom closet occupants who had lost track of time, it seemed that many of the older Slytherins, emboldened by Voldemort's more pressing attacks, had taken to stalking the halls in search of young victims.

The Marauders, it always seemed to Lily, had a knack of finding out about this and attempting to put a stop to the actions before anyone else could possibly realize that people were out of bed. Thankfully, the Marauders themselves had backed off a bit on being out and pulling pranks past curfew though, every once in awhile, even when Remus as patrolling with her, it seemed they could get up to a little trouble. Just a few weeks ago, in fact, a mural of Lucius Malfoy in pink dress robes had inexplicably appeared on a third floor wall.

The night following James' question seemed to be a quiet one, however, and Lily was thankful for it. The quiet nature of the castle allowed her and Remus to talk and, while Remus wasn't exactly a best friend, she still enjoyed his company.

"Sorry about James," Remus said after an extended lull in the conversation.

"Merlin," Lily groaned, casting her eyes to the sky, "Does he ever quit?"

Remus chuckled appreciatively at her dramatics, it reminded him of James, though he would never mention that to Lily, "I honestly don't think James has quit on anything his whole life."

There was more to that statement than was just on the surface, Lily noted, and she nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Lily agreed, "But I slag him down every chance I get, why doesn't he learn?" She groaned again.

Remus laughed genuinely this time, covering his mouth to keep it from being too loud, "Merlin, Lily, you're expecting taking the mickey out of him to diminish his interest in you?" The way he asked the question made Lily feel, for a moment, as if the idea was completely daft.

"Umm, yes?" She said, uncertainly.

"Lily," Remus began, patiently, "What do the Marauders do to each other at every available opportunity?"

Lily groaned for a third time; she already knew where this was going, "Take the mickey out of each other?"

"Very good," Remus said, dripping sarcasm, "I can see why you're top of your class."

"Oh, shut it," She snapped in good nature.

"To be honest," Remus began again, more seriously, "I think he likes you more that you can do that to him. He respects your wit and intelligence."

"As kind as that is," Lily said, rolling her eyes, "Tell him to quit. Please?"

Remus smiled, continuing down the hallway, "Like I said, Lily, I don't think James has quit on anything his whole life."

"Why not?" She asked petulantly, following her fellow prefect.

"It's just not in him," Remus said, seriously, again taking the conversation away from the surface, "He has this picture in his head of the way things should be, yeah?" He looked to Lily, who nodded at him to continue, "And he just works as hard as he can to get them to be that way."

Lily smiled as Remus continued to talk about his friend, "He's so stubborn, I'm sure you know," he nodded in Lily's direction, who rolled her eyes with an agreeing smile, "But that's also one of his best traits, because as much as his pushing and prodding can get annoying and exasperating and you just want to bloody strangle him..."

Remus trailed off for a moment, and Lily noticed the wistful look in his eye. For Lily, it wasn't hard to imagine this James that her fellow sixth-year prefect was talking about. It was the James she had been seeing in the Common Room, in front of the flames of the fireplace, forcing her but not _forcing_ her, to talk about things. The James who would say anything to her, knowing full well the situation, that many people who had no idea what was going on would never dream to say.

"As much as you just want to bloody strangle him," Remus said again, picking Lily out of her musings, "You realize-"

Lily cut him off, "You realize you need it," she finished.

For a moment, Remus looked at her in surprise. Slowly, he nodded his head, "Yeah," he finally agreed.

"Yeah," he said again.

Remus knew about James' ideas of destiny. He had always shrugged them off as delusional or, at best, a poor man's ideas of Divination. At that moment, however, Remus believed for the first time that James' ideas about destiny just might be right. That, after all, James and Lily might somehow end up together.

The problem with believing that one can live by destiny's rules, of course, is that you have to believe one can die by them, too.

Remus didn't know about James' dreams.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: Hi! I'm really bad at remembering to do these things, though I always want to. That being said, I even forgot to do this one, and then I went back and added it in later. I am stupid. Anywho. Thanks to everyone who has been following this story! I'd like to give a shout out to those who have reviewed, just because I think it's quite a nice thing to do. So, without further adieu!**

**EireRose: My first reviewer! Thanks so much. I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter and thought it was cute. You haven't reviewed since, but I hope you're keeping up with the story!**

**KaceyO: Thanks for keeping up with the reviews for every chapter. I really enjoy it when people keep me updated on how they think the story is progressing, and I'm glad you've liked the whole thing so far. The Sex Pistols are pretty terrific, I agree.**

**Yvonne Park: Thanks for your kind words on my characterization. You said in your first review how you like the idea of the Marauders using pranks for 'good'. That was the primary idea that I actually had to come up with this story. I'm going to revisit this idea in future chapters (by going back to the past or something?) so you readers can see how much of a change it is from the old Marauders style.**

**kittyatza: Don't worry, I doubt you were the only person who didn't understand immediately what the black envelopes were. I didn't mean for it to be a mystery, it just kind of turned out that way! And I thought roses might be a little too much, too soon. Thanks!**

**mebmarker24: Thank you for your honest opinions. I would agree with you that the action in this story is a bit rushed but, as I never really had planned even writin this story, it seems to just be trying to get out as quickly as it possibly can. It's also one of the few stories I've written in third-person, so I've got to work on my pacing from that standpoint anywho. Thanks again!**

**: Hope you're still keeping up! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Kattyface: Thanks for the review! I haven't had much time to read a lot, lately, but I'll get around to checking yours out, I promise.**

**M'rika: I'm glad your initial return to fanfiction was an enjoyable one. When writing that particular chapter, I thought about how disconnected the Muggle and Magic worlds must be, but how they still affect each other, especially for muggleborn students. How weird must it be, struggling through two separate cultural changes? Thanks for the review!**

**345: Thanks for the review. I really enjoyed the style of the introduction of chapter four and hope to be using more of it in the future, to help establish the narrative and the emotion behind the character interactions.**

**majorGIT: OMG! :) Thanks so much for your enthusiasm. I really appreciate it. It's always great to hear people have an emotional reaction to anything you do. I hope you continue to read on!**

**Finally, thanks to everyone who has been reading this, even if you haven't been reviewing. If you're thinking of reviewing, please, hit the button! It's always great to hear feedback about your work and, even as much as I enjoy writing for writings sake, it makes me happy having confirmation that people are reading. Hope to hear from you!**


	6. 1972

Things were different in 1972.

In fact, it seemed as though the social standing of the Wizard and Muggle worlds had been flip-flopped in that short, four-year time span. An energy crisis was sweeping across the Muggle world, and the promises of advancement and technology that the 60s had heralded were now being exposed as too far-reaching or as simple tall tales. Instead of the determined and focused intensity that would mark the later part of the decade for Muggles, the early 1970s were a let down. A not-unexpected hangover from the wild 1960s.

In the Wizarding world, things were happier. Voldemort, though around, was confined to back room whispers and careful asides. The Dark Mark had made its appearance, but was not the feared symbol of terror it would eventually grow to be. No one knew yet what a black envelope meant. For most young witches and wizards, the most stress going on in their lives were their exams at Hogwart's.

This was not always the case, of course. There were people like Regulus Black, who constantly felt at odds between the pull of his family's wishes and desires for him, which had always served him well and benefited him immensely, and the pull caused by his silent, deep respect for his brother, Sirius, who had the courage to go his own direction. One Regulus felt he could never follow.

There were people like Severus Snape, whose home life weighed upon him heavily. His parents' violent arguments, many of which highlighted the divided between the Muggle and Wizard worlds, were constantly on his mind. Not to mention, the constant ridicule he endured from many of his peers were far more concerning to him than exams, which came more than easily to him.

There were people like Lily Evans who, at twelve, was learning more and more how much of a lie it was when Severus Snape told her that it didn't matter at all, being Muggle-born. As she walked down the halls and had to endure taunts from Slytherin students. They weren't much, a surreptitious shove or tripping jinx here, a whispered "Mudblood" there. But they added up. Even without the boldness that would later be instilled in them by the Dark Lord, their taunts were hurtful, more so than a poor mark would ever be.

What nobody ever expected, however, is that included in that number were people like the Marauders.

Peter Pettigrew, since being allowed to tag along with the three other talented wizards, seemed to be almost more untouchable than Sirius, James and Remus. While the other three weren't averse to throwing themselves in harm's way, Peter often shrugged into the shadows behind them. The loyalty between all of them showed itself in the way the other three would willingly stand in front of him in protection.

But it wasn't hard to imagine the pain and problems of Peter Pettigrew. He was the least popular, least talented and least desirable of the Marauders. He was often overlooked when it came to the talented magic the group of them were capable of, which often struck a chord within him. He was also the one most likely to be cornered alone, picked out of the crowd of the quartet and made an example of. His Gryffindor pride kept many of these encounters from his friends, all of whom he had seen take on the same students who had hurt him without much more than a few scratches.

Remus Lupin seemed to be the balance and counterpoint of the Marauders. Though easily as brilliant as Sirius or James, he was more reserved and studious. Through this he cultivated a more mysterious perceived personality than his more outgoing friends, which caused many of the Marauders' enemies to underestimate Remus alone, and also was seen as a bit more intimidating than Sirius or James' open displays of magical power.

But the cause for his reserved and studious demeanor was what caused him the most pain. His secret was known to very few: The Marauders, the professors of Hogwart's and only the barest minimum of Ministry politicians. The werewolf inside of him tore him up, even when he was not transformed. He had a hidden explosive temper that occasionally awakened a secret violent streak, one that he worked to subdue almost as hard as he worked on his studies. Besides that, there was also the constant, battering loneliness of his hazily remembered transformations.

Sirius Black, the risk taker. His outgoing demeanor and biting sense of humor had made him beloved in Gryffindor House and, when his cunning and vicious comedy was not turned on them, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw laughed along with him. He was the best looking of the Marauders, a fact which he thought more amusing than anything else, though Peter sometimes felt as if Sirius lorded this information over the rest of the group. His lazy brilliance stirred up jealousy among those who didn't have it and his tendency for pushing the boundaries of the rules, of his peers and of his own body drew constant attention and admiration his way.

His pain was hidden nearly completely, only exposed to those who knew him best, though it wouldn't be hard to guess the source. Being ostracized from his family was difficult for him, no matter how much he despised them, or how fervently he spoke against them. His parents would always be his parents, and he would always subconsciously desire their approval even if, especially if, it seemed it would never be given. Coming home for holidays was always a bittersweet affair. It was a new chance for forgiveness and acceptance, and it was always trashed and thrown away by both parties. It would always be trashed and thrown away by both parties.

James Potter was the ringleader, the conductor, the first chair and the director of the Marauders. His casual charm and blasé, devil-may-care attitude would become more myth than truth at Hogwart's. He was handsome, talented, athletic and charming. He had money and came from money, he had family and status. Even at twelve, he had the confidence in his abilities to try (and often succeed) at difficult and impressive feats. While some would deride him as being arrogant, his arrogance was not unfounded and many of those who lacked his confidence found joy in his actions, living vicariously through them.

James Potter's pain was the most unexpected and, perhaps, the most inexplicable. He never spoke it out loud, not even to his fellow Marauders, though they knew of it as intimately as anyone could. James just never found the strength to confide in anyone about his parents' slowly deteriorating health. It would be spoken about to his friends through pained glances, wordlessly acquired Dreamless Sleep Potions, and heavy sighs in the privacy of their company. It was hidden and silent.

It would be hidden and silent for four more years until, in front of a fireplace, he would say it out loud for the first time to Lily Evans.

* * * * * * * *

A group of four twelve-year olds trudged up the stairs from the Gryffindor Common Room into the boy's dormitories. Despite being younger students, almost everyone knew them already, both for their boisterous and vivacious group personality and their incessant, occasionally hilarious trouble making. However, it was with heavy hearts that the boys now made sure that they were completely alone in the third-year boy's dorms and sat down on the edge of their respective beds.

"So..." Peter started, trailing off.

"Remus, do you know why we dragged you up here?" James questioned, his blunt, aggressive nature prevalent even at that young age.

"N-No," Remus stuttered, an unnatural noise for the normally calm boy.

"Look," Peter interjected quickly, "We just think you ought to tell us."

"T-Tell you what?" Remus again stuttered, hoping in vain that he could get out of this line of questioning by acting dumb.

"Look mate," Sirius began, "We've just begun to notice some fishy things about you. The way your mum's sick so regularly-"

"She's in poor health!" Remus interjected, though noticeably less forcefully than if his exultation had been the truth. Sirius ignored it.

"Your mum's sick so regularly," Sirius repeated, "And then you always come back and have to be in the Hospital Wing yourself-"

"How do you know that?!" Remus questioned quickly, shocked by the implication that his friend's were spying on him.

"Invisibility Cloak," James said quietly. Then, without waiting for either of his friend's to continue, he just blurt it out, "Remus, are you a werewolf?"

The question hung heavily in the air for a while. Peter had taken in a sharp gasp of breath at the suddenness of the remark and was holding it unconsciously. Sirius, even, had stiffened a bit. Remus, of course, had straightened up as if slapped, the pained look of shock evident on his face. James was the only one whose posture didn't changed, he merely stared at Remus with a look of intensity not often found on a twelve-year old.

The silence went long enough where Peter had to let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding. Remus looked between his friends, his expression akin to a squirrel sitting in front of three hungry owls. Peter, strangely, had an almost identical look on his face. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Remus hung his head in defeat.

"Yes. I am," He admitted, sighing. He couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes.

There was another long pause, and Remus waited for the inevitable backlash to come. He could imagine their reproachful, terrified stares. Their shocked grimaces. He would just keep his head down until they left, one-by-one, they would leave him and-

"Wicked," Sirius breathed.

Remus' head shot up, "What?"

"I said that's wicked!" Sirius said, joy shooting into his eyes.

"Are you _crazy?_" Remus growled at him, but it couldn't keep the dancing smile off of Sirius' face.

"Why didn't you tell us?" James asked, a pained expression crossing his features.

The quick anger Remus had directed at Sirius dissipated quickly at James' somber face, "I was afraid."

James didn't have to ask what he was afraid of. All three of the other Marauders knew immediately what he meant. Instead of answering, James did something that he had never done before. He got up off the edge of his bed, came over to Remus and gave him a hug.

"We're _always_ here for you, mate," James whispered forcefully. Breaking off from the hug, James gave a careless grin before saying, "Rule number twenty-three. Remember that next time."

The foursome had invented a set of rules for their friendship during their first year, not long after Peter had joined the group. It was a rule book that was as silly as it was serious, full of equal parts eleven-year old nonsense and the accidental profundities of children.

Rule number twenty-three was: 'No secrets. No lies.'

"We're going to make this better for you," James said, the boastfulness of his twelve-year old self somehow now sounding simply like the confidence of a much older man. Remus believed him. In the end, he usually did believe whatever James had to say, for better or for worse.

"I don't know how you could," Remus replied honestly.

"Who do you hate?" James asked, seriously.

"What?" Remus was thrown off by the abrupt change in the nature of the conversation.

"Who do you hate in school?" James asked again.

"Nobody!" Remus said, a bit scandalized.

"Okay," James continued, unabated, "Who's been bugging you the most? And don't tell me nobody, because I know you get picked on by people in the library when you're studying. I've heard it sometimes."

"When?" Remus questioned defiantly.

At James' pause, Sirius continued, "He goes down and checks on you sometimes, in the Invisibility Cloak. To make sure you're not working yourself too hard."

Instead of feeling embarrassed, Remus merely turned to James and muttered, "Rule twenty-three, huh?"

"You broke it first!" James replied childishly, in his own defense, yet there was a smile tugging at his lips.

"Fine. Bertram Aubrey has been on me the most," Remus said, giving up.

"Knew you'd see it our way," James said, cheekily.

* * * * * * * *

Before they were the Marauders, the boy still pulled pranks. Before the Map and before Animagi, before trying to be clever and creative with every subsequent prank, they were simply troublemakers. Before the rules would eventually become The Marauder's Handbook to Life, they were simply four kids using their talents and abilities against others in an effort to bring a little bit of joy into their own lives.

It wasn't something they did consciously. They never spoke of it and, while the three who got the opportunity to look back at their time in school with some perspective might have figured it out, they never consciously thought of it that way. They wrote their younger counterparts off as arrogant berks, merely concerned with being cool and, while that was certainly a motivating factor, they couldn't quite admit to anyone, maybe even including themselves, that their pain was the motivation behind most of those harmful pranks.

Bertram Aubrey was in a crowded lavatory after a Quidditch match when James and Sirius inflated his head.

The hierarchy of a school, particularly among younger students, is mostly determined by who is laughed at and who is making people laugh. Those who are laughed at most are pushed down the social ladder, while those who make people laugh the most are pushed up. Aubrey wasn't the most talented of wizard's in his grade, nor was he particularly witty or athletic. He had aspirations of being a beater on the Quidditch team in a year or two but, beyond that, his social status was somewhere in the middle of the ladder.

In the library one day, however, he had made a crack to a few of his friends regarding the pale and gaunt physical appearance of Remus Lupin. It had earned him quite a few laughs and, because Remus and his friends were gaining popularity, by taking him down, Aubrey was beginning to become a bit popular on his own. He liked it. He liked having people look up to him, he liked making people laugh and he liked "taking down" one of the most liked kids in school.

Like many students, after the Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match had finished, he had to use the restroom. The lavatory closest to the Quidditch pitch entrance was always crowded, but it essentially the only one to use if you really had to use one after a game. It wasn't surprising in any way for there to actually be a line in that particular men's lavatory at that particular time.

Sirius and James waited until Aubrey had begun washing his hands before they came up on either side of him, each clapping a hand on the nearest shoulder.

"Hello, friend," Sirius said, cheerfully.

"Uh," Aubrey mumbled uncertainly, "Hi?"

"How _are_ you this marvelous day?" James smiled at the smaller boy, necessarily stressing the word 'are'.

"I'm good, I guess," Aubrey said quietly, looking from side to side at the pair.

"Bad luck, then, mate" James said mysteriously, marching him to the doorway of the lavatory in front of a bustling river of students.

"Attention!" James called, "May I have everyone's attention, please?"

"C'mon, you dolts, look up here!" Sirius called.

After a few moments of shouting, most of the student body had stopped and were staring questioningly at the group of three twelve-year olds.

"I don't know how many of you know," James said loudly, "But Bertram here has been making a habit of talking down about our friend Remus."

"Bad form, mate," Sirius said, shaking his head sadly.

"So, I just wanted to tell him one thing," James continued, looking precisely at Aubrey, whose glance quailed at the vicious look on James' face.

"And that one thing is," James' voice turned very suddenly from good-natured to painful, as he leaned down and whispered the last in Aubrey's ear, only for him to hear, "Don't."

Both Sirius and James pulled out their wands, "_Engorgio!_" They incanted simultaneously, pointing their wands at Aubrey's head. The smaller boy's head began to grow quickly in size, causing many students to laugh uproariously, Sirius and James among them. Some other students were shocked. One quickly got a prefect and James and Sirius, not trying in any way to get out of punishment for their crimes, gladly took their detentions. They made a show of bowing and indicating their handiwork, to the applause of some and the silent reprimands of others.

As they passed by Remus, Sirius clapped their friend on the back.

He would try, in later years, to get his friends to cut back on their needless hexing but, this time, he couldn't help it.

He laughed.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: zomgtimelinechangeahhhhhh!**

**I decided to put this chapter in here because the next few are bigger events going on and I decided it would be appropriate to have a look back and see where I thought the Marauders kind of came from. Hope you enjoyed the digression!**

**Anywho, thanks to the following reviewers!**

**mebmarker24: The reason I kind of keep putting the Amos/Lily and James/Lily scenes back to back is to show the differences in approach between the two boys. Hope you like it!**

**: Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad you're enjoying the story!**

**KaceyO: Shout out again! I like the idea of Remus believing in James and Lily, too, though that chapter to me is a bit sad, too.**

**ichigo21: Don't worry sir/madam, I will try my best to keep updating at a decent pace! Thanks for the review!**

**DanceDiva: You're very kind. I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations, even if it isn't a natural continuation of the story. **

**Thanks again to my reviewers and thanks, too, to all those who are reading!**


	7. Frank Sinatra

If the boys had been honest with themselves, they probably knew that the night before Slug Club Plus was probably a dumb night to sneak out to Hogsmeade, but there was something about the night that was speaking to them. Even Remus could feel it, an inner yearning, so much different than the angry pull of the full moon when it approached. It wasn't the shops they were sneaking out for that night, nor the hope of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head, the latter would have been the more likely of the two. While Rosemerta was kind enough not to turn them into Dumbledore about their late-night adventures thus far, it was doubtful she would be as forgiving so shortly after a Death Eater attack. But the boy's passed both pubs without a glance, passed by all the shops without hesitation and snuck quietly to the outskirts of town. Maybe even they didn't know where they were going, or why.

There was just something about that night.

The colors of the night sky were just slightly off kilter from every other night; the dark purples of the dying sunset were tinged with hints of green, the deep blues of the star-dotted sky specked with freckles of red. It was unseasonably warm for a March night, a sign of the coming Spring. There were whistles of night birds and groans from animals beginning to wake from their long hibernations. Even the air seemed to be slightly different, perhaps a bit lighter and more crisp, easier to breath and maybe even easier to walk through. An unlikely warm wind rippled lightly through, carrying the smells of blossoming flowers. It seemed almost real enough to lean into.

Discarding the cloak (it being dark enough where they hadn't worried about four sets of disembodied feet), the four ascended the ridge that marked the separation between Hogsmeade and the mountain range it neighbored.

The cave was a place they had found late in fifth year, looking around the area surrounding both Hogwart's and Hogsmeade for a place to "play" with Moony during his transformations. Afraid that they were treading too close to Hogsmeade, they had retreated up the mountains and, having too much fun in their Animagus forms, stumbled upon the place quite inadvertently.

Tonight, they had gone back for the skylight.

The cave was beautiful in its own right, of course. It was spacious, with stalactites and stalagmites placed seemingly by an artist's hand, in just the right places so as to be both aesthetically pleasing and not get in the way of anyone (or any four) who wanted to get comfortable. It was cut deeper into the west-facing side, carving out a room of sorts and the boys had transfigured some blankets, pillows and couches into that 'room' around a year ago for nights such as this.

The skylight, as the boys had dubbed it for obvious reasons, was a huge opening at the top of the cave that, during the day, cast light in unexpected and interesting directions, and reflected through the stalactites and stalagmites until the entire cave was filled with thin, individually identifiable beams of light. At nights like this, though, there were stars.

Oh, there were stars.

Sometimes it was easy to forget about the stars, cooped up in Hogwart's castle. Even when the boys snuck to Hogsmeade in the middle of the night, it was rare that the town's ambient light allowed more than a few specks of stars in. The cave, however, was far enough removed from the village so that the stars popped into existence and littered the night sky and the skylight framed the constellations in a more interesting way than Astronomy ever would.

"Okay," Sirius slurred, "Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Okay. Prongs."

They had also brought Firewhiskey.

"Yes?" James replied, doing his best to put on the character of a distinguished gentleman for a few moments before breaking down into giggles.

"Prongs," Sirius said again, "Prongs. Do you _realize_ we're illegal _Animaguses_? How bloody _cool_ is that?"

"Animagi," Remus muttered drunkenly from the corner.

"Who needs correct grammar when you have firewhiskey!" Peter proclaimed suddenly, downing another shot of the vile concoction.

"Cheers!" Sirius and James mumbled, one right after the other, allowing Peter to pour them shots.

"Cheers," Remus mumbled, a bit late, holding up his shot glass that was still filled with the last shot Peter had poured for him.

"Damnit, Moony!" James laughed, "Take your damn shot! Damn!"

"Fine, fine," Remus relented, and all four of the Marauders clinked their glasses together (Peter had already taken the liberty of pouring himself another), and downed their shots together before collapsing on the couches they had brought into the cave and staring out the skylight.

"Stars are pretty," Peter said, for lack of anything else.

Silently agreeing with the true, if unimaginative statement of their friend, the foursome quietly contemplated the night sky. It was what outings like this were designed for. It was a way for the four of them to work out their problems, without having to actually talk about the problems they were having.

Despite the obvious reminders of his lycanthropy that the cave might have brought, Remus never dwelled on them, perhaps just out of the obliviousness of being a teenager. Somehow, he felt safe there. It was the cave that convinced him, after every full moon, to let them run the risk again of taking him out of the Shrieking Shack and let him run free in the wild. Even drunk, he could recognize the undeniable beauty of the moments they spent there, talking of nothing at all, yet communicating everything so comfortably with each other. It was these moments that let him feel confidence in his own humanity. After all, what did werewolves know of staring at the night sky peacefully?

"You know what's pretty?" James said, after a long silence.

"I can guess," Sirius muttered, laughingly, just as Peter interjected, "Oh, Merlin."

Ignoring them, or maybe not hearing them in his drunkenness, James continued, "Lily's pretty."

"We know, Prongs," Peter said loudly, "You've told us before."

Still ignoring them, maybe talking just to himself, James didn't stop talking, "Lily's pretty and I like her. But she doesn't like me. And that makes me sad."

The blunt, honest self-assessment silenced the rest of the group for a few moments, enough for James to regain a track on his thought process, "And a lot of other guys like Lily and that makes me sad."

Silence still, "And a lot of other girls besides Lily like me and that makes me sad."

"What?" Sirius asked, a laugh barely restrained.

James looked over at his best friend, glass-eyed from booze and sadness, "I think Lily would like me better if other girls didn't like me because she doesn't like that all those girls like me because she thinks I like that they like me."

There was a moments pause.

"What?" Peter asked, unable to follow in his drunken state.

James continued, unabated, "And I feel really, really, really jealous of Snape because, from some stupid fluke of geography, he got to live next to her and be her friend for all those years even those he's a prat and, hey, I'm a prat, too! I get that. But he got a chance! Where's my chance?"

Finally James fell silent for more than a few seconds. None of the other Marauders were entirely sure what to say. They had assumed, for the past year or so, that James' infatuation with Lily was simply that. That it would be gone and passed soon enough. It wasn't like he was the first guy in Hogwart's to pursue Lily Evans. In fact, among Gryffindor sixth-year males, it wasn't entirely uncommon for them to joke about their own "Lily Evans stage", the part of a year or particular moment in their time in school when they were infatuated with the red-headed Muggle-born. To Sirius, Remus and Peter, they all assumed that the past year was simply James' own "Lily Evans stage". But it became quickly apparent in the course of James' drunken speech that it was more than that.

James had never let a girl get to him this way. Even after being screamed at by Evans after the lake incident he had managed to buck up, dressing up in a Giant Squid uniform before school let out, much to the chagrin of the school. Even Lily herself had smiled a bit at the cleverness, a fact that James had never held brought up. He wasn't stupid about Lily, in general, contrary to what many thought, even his own friends. He _was_ however, stupid about Lily when he was around him. When it came to members of the opposite sex, James was something of a sailboat without a rudder, moving in whatever direction, towards whichever girl, the wind seemed to blow at that time. Lily, though, spun him about, like converging pressure systems, spinning his sails unexpectedly.

"I told her about my parents," James near-whispered.

"What?!" Sirius yelled.

"Wow," Was all Remus could say.

"That's crazy," Sirius said, shaking his head at the stars, "Prongs, I didn't know... I think we all just thought..."

They were sobering up now, the gravity of the conversation snapping them more into consciousness.

"Yeah, I know," James nodded, "'Lily Evans stage', right?"

"Well," Peter scratched his head in an embarrassed fashion, "Yeah, pretty much."

"Me, too," James said, miserably, "That'd be so much easier."

* * * * * * * *

Bouncing through their day, despite heavy hangovers, the boys had put themselves into their best dress robes for Slug Club Plus. As was Marauder tradition, none of the four had dates (James quipped humorlessly that he was "going stag"). It was rule number seventeen of The Marauder's Handbook to Life, established after Sirius had taken a girl to Hogsmeade and left the rest of the group behind. It said, "If one Marauder must go alone, all Marauders must go alone."

All in all, the event was supposed to be mostly casual, but very few students ended up coming in entirely casual wear. Most of the students had deemed it an appropriate enough situation to warrant dressing up a little bit, but none of the students had gone as all out as the Marauders. The four of them together, so overdressed and overplaying their roles, they were like the Rat Pack at a small town ice cream social. Immediately when they walked in the door, tension seemed to evaporate from not only the Great Hall, but the entire school. Despite the black envelope, the Marauders were still around, still doing anything for the sake of a joke, even if it was show up to the nines to an event that required sixes, maybe sevens at most.

Somehow, over the course of four years, the Marauders had become the de facto mascots of Hogwart's. When they were happy, Hogwart's was happy, when they were morose, so was the school. When they came to a party, ready to be laughed at, well somehow they managed it so every member of the student body laughed with them. Their silliness and childishness allowed people to downplay the truth behind their bravado. Lily was glad for that truth. She was glad to see Hogwart's laugh again, even if only for a moment. The laughter allowed her to smile a bit, even through the pain. It felt wrong to be smiling, but, with the laughter back, she allowed herself to ignore that feeling.

"Why, hello," Sirius Black slid up to her side, putting on a ridiculous American accent, "And you are?"

"Black, you know who I am," Lily drawled, "And why are you talking like that?"

"Me? Why I'm Sammy Davis, Junior," Sirius continued, completely ignoring Lily's comment, "I have to say, Miss Evans, that it is indeed a pleasure to meet you."

"How do you know who Sammy Davis, Junior is?" Lily questioned, laughing a bit at the Marauder's antics.

"Ocean's Eleven, of course. Great, great flick," Sirius said earnestly, leaning on the same table that Lily had been.

"Okay, so, if you're Sammy Davis, Junior..." Lily trailed off, but Sirius picked up on her line of thinking.

"Peter is Peter Lawford, we figured that would make it so he couldn't confuse anything and stay in character-"

"You're supposed to be staying in _character_ all night?" Lily asked, incredulous.

"'Course," Sirius answered plainly, continuing with his previous thought, "Remus is Dean Martin and-"

"Oh, Merlin, please don't tell me you let James be Frank Sinatra," Lily moaned, leaning her head back in an expression of pure exasperation.

"Why not?" Sirius asked, "He knows practically every Sinatra song by heart."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Lily replied.

"Aaaand, here comes Frank now," Sirius said, tipping an imaginary hat at Lily before making his way across the Great Hall.

"Come fly with me," James sang as he danced towards her, surprisingly deft on his feet and pleasant on the ears, "Let's fly, let's fly awaaay."

"Sorry, Potter, 'fraid of heights. Pity," She quipped, struggling to keep a straight face at his antics.

"Potter?" James questioned, acting wonderfully put out by the comment, using a different, but equally awful American accent when compared to Sirius, "The name's Frank, darlin'."

"Frank, then," Lily corrected, somehow not annoyed by the act.

"And what's your name, beautiful?" James asked. She noticed that, in true Sinatra style, his dressy clothes were already a bit mussed and undone, much like the permanent state of his hair. He was amusing, she noted begrudgingly, despite the corniness of his act, he managed to pull it off through sheer willpower.

"Lily Evans," she said, playing along, holding out her hand.

James took it and and kissed it. For some reason, Lily let him. She was into his character, in a way. She was allowing herself to believe that it wasn't James that was flirting with her and that, somehow, made it okay. James, for his part, was letting the character channel his natural boldness. With something to hide behind, it allowed the both of them to act more naturally than they usually ever allowed.

"Well, Miss Evans," James said, his American accent faltering a bit, "It is wonderful to meet you. Are you from around here, then?"

It was almost like starting over without having to actually start over.

"Yes, Frank, I am," She said, still gamely keeping her face straight, "And yourself?"

"Originally from New Jersey, but now I live in," Here James broke unabashedly into loud singing, "New Yooork, New Yooork!"

"Shhh," Lily shushed him, unable to contain her laughter anymore, but slapping him across the arm as other people close by turned to look at who the outburst was from.

"Sorry, Miss Evans," James apologized sincerely, "Anyhow, I just came over from across the pond for this delightful party. And, I must say, it is quite wonderful," James offered her an exaggerated wink.

Lily rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep an exasperated smile off of her face, "Yes, it really is, Frank," she said, in a placating, yet friendly manner.

"Please, darling," James insisted, "Call me Mr. Sinatra."

Lily dissolved into a fit of giggles, finally unable to hold a straight face to the Marauders' characters. Smiling a grin wide enough to split his face, James, too, tipped an imaginary hat in Lily's direction before turning around to head towards the rest of his Rat Pack.

"James," Lily called.

James turned, the sincerity in Lily's voice keeping him from correcting her, "Yes, Miss Evans?"

Lily was suddenly unsure what to say. The handful of minutes James had been standing there suddenly seemed like a lifetime. He seemed so different, as if allowing him to be this character in her mind, dropping any and all preconceived notions she might have had about him had suddenly let her see who James really was. Something that, even despite his firelight confessions, she didn't think she had ever truly allowed herself to see. She struggled for a few moments to find the right words before smiling as they suddenly occurred to her.

"It was nice to meet you," She said.

James smiled, one that was tinted with a hundred different emotions, "You, too, Miss Evans. You, too."

She couldn't help but laugh as James danced through the crowd, his tuneful Sinatra impression echoing through the Great Hall.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: Another chapter, yay! 20,000 word mark, yay! Though, I was kind of sad that I only got four reviews from the last chapter. Not that they weren't good reviews, of course (They were spectacular, to be certain), but a guy wants to hear from his audience, adoring or scathing! So, yeah, please review!**

**KaceyO: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm going to be periodically revisiting the past for a few more choice moments I think (Most definitely the whole saving Snape situation), so yeah, we'll have plenty of opportunities to see how the Marauders grew.**

**DanceDiva: I'm truly glad you enjoyed the chapter. I wanted to show how stupid and simple they might have been as kids, but kids have this depth and profoundness that's unique to that age and is sometimes indefinable. I hope I communicated that!**

**Yvonne Park: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed the intro to that chapter, as it was probably the part I put the most thought into writing. I think it's important to balance the boys' obvious popularity at school with the pain each of them must have been going through, so I hope that got through!**

**mebmarker24: I'm flattered that you chose my alert to read first, and I'm glad you understand what I'm going for with the whole Amos/James thing. I probably won't put them back to back like that much more. Now that I've established it, it'll be easier to see even with distance between the scenes, I think. And, yeah, I really like working things in from the books as much as I can. With my other aforementioned flashbacks that I'm planning, I will probably do a few more things like that for the general enjoyment of all.**

**Thanks to everyone who is reading! I hope you're enjoying it!**


	8. Trip Fifty Two

_April 3rd, two days after the prank._

People don't always know why they react the way they do. For the most part, people try to know the intent behind their actions. They like to be able to explain why they did something or didn't ask something or decided this or that or the other thing. It's a bit unnerving to most people if they don't know the reasons behind their own actions. But, truthfully, there are plenty of times when people just _don't_. Human beings, even wizards, aren't intended to know all the secrets behind anything, even themselves.

A person like Sirius Black, in fact, knew precious little about the reasons behind most of his actions. His instincts, far more developed and honed than most people of any age, were more than enough to help him through most any situation, whether it be brainstorming a rather unique prank or participating in a particularly competitive duel. If you asked Sirius Black why he had done anything, his answer would be a short pause, an impassive blink, and then an incredulous shake of the head followed by his exit.

There was no way James could have avoided the punch.

If anyone was asked, they would all have said that there was just no way James could have avoided the punch. It was cruel, cowardly, and vicious, the way Nott waited until just when James had turned away to channel all of his considerable strength into a violent sucker punch. If anyone asked, they would all say that James had tried to do the noble thing. He hadn't let Nott's incessant, belligerent, tasteless talk provoke him like he had a tendency to do. He was trying to be the bigger man. He turned away, was going to let it go, but as soon as he turned around Nott threw his fist and you didn't expect the other Marauders to just take that, did you, Professor?

That's what anyone would have said, if asked.

Except Lily Evans.

She saw the whole thing, of course. She knew that something was going to happen the moment she rounded into a corridor on the fourth floor and saw a group of students surrounding a standoff between the Marauders and some Slytherins. Her first instinct, born out of the anger she still was holding over the Marauders from their April Fool's Day prank, was to walk away from the situation in exasperation. Her prefect's badge caught a reflection of light for a moment and she inwardly sighed. If the fight came to a head, she knew she should be there to sort it out.

The Slytherin's skin color was still slightly off, that part of the prank having not yet completely faded. Nott and James were the ones in the center of the circle. Nott was trying his best to look intimdating and, had it been towards anyone other than James, it might have been successful. James' laconic, relaxed stance and the light and laughter in his eyes dispelled Nott's presence effectively.

"Thought you were proud to be a Slytherin, Nott?" James asked cheekily, "The other houses got quite a kick out of the whole thing. Took to it like a grindylow to water."

"Some of us, Potter, have had it with your bloody jokes," Nott spat through grit teeth.

"Language, Nott!" Potter cried in mock-scandal, "What would your mummy think?!"

Nott fumbled for a moment in his robes, struggling to pull his wand out. It would have been more than enough time to James or any of the other Marauders to pull their own wands, but a look from James staid their hands. The cruel, curved wood of Nott's wand came into contact with James' cheek. Lily began to shove her way through the crowd, her mouth opening to sort the situation but, just before she spoke, she caught James' eyes.

They were pleading with her.

Lily was temporarily dumbfounded, unable to deduce the reason why James didn't want her to stop Nott. Just as quick as the sidelong glance was on James' face, it was gone, and back was the devil-may-care grin.

"I'm not going to fight you, Nott," James said, grinning. "It'd be unfair, wouldn't it?"

Nott's grim face turned into a feral grin, "How do you figure that, Potter?"

In a move quicker than almost any student could see, James had batted Nott's wand out of his hand. There was a pregnant silence as the wood made clanking noises as it bounced off the stone floors of the corridor.

"Well," James continued, his hand stroking his chin, as if contemplating, "You're unarmed," There were a few light snickers through the audience at this, "Just doesn't seem right to me to hex an unarmed bloke."

"Take out your wands," one of the Slytherins said quietly. Nott sneered, glancing behind him as his friends drew their wands and pointed them at James. His expression changed to one of glee as he momentarily caught a glimpse of Lily's red hair in the crowd.

"No," Nott said, a wild grin on his features, "No, I reckon Potter's right. There's no need for wands here."

There were some expressions of surprise in the crowd, though James seemed wholly unaffected, his deceptively easygoing smile still plastered to his face, "What's this, Nott? Thought it was part of the house motto to attack only when your opponent hasn't drawn his wand?"

Nott didn't react, and that's when James' act dropped a bit. He made a subtle motion with his hand, knowing that something in the circumstances had changed, and Sirius and Remus stiffened up, their hands subtly grabbing the handles of their wands, but not pulling them out.

"What would blood traitors like your lot know about the Slytherin house motto?" Nott asked, taking a step back, smiling with his friends as if in on an inside joke. Not turning around, Nott held his arm up, "Magic Prevails!" He said loudly.

"Magic Prevails!" His friends called back.

Sirius stifled a laugh, not unnoticed by Nott.

"What's so funny, Black? One would think you'd have the common courtesy to feel ashamed. One of the most respected families. A family that actually deserves to be part of the wizarding world. And you throw it away. For what? For these three?" Nott grimaced, as if struck by a particularly nasty smell. He walked back up to the Marauders, pausing in front of Peter, who cowered a bit at the much larger boys stature.

"A blood traitor fink? Too untalented to do even first year magic?" Nott spat as Peter whimpered. Nott continued on to Remus.

"A raggedy half-blood _beast_?" Nott spat, causing Remus to tense up. Snape knew, of course, had seen Remus transform back in fifth year but, while Dumbledore had convinced him not to say a word of it, his theories had long since spread through Slytherin house.

Finally Nott came back to in front of Potter, low, with an evil smile on his face Nott muttered just loud enough for the crowd to hear, "A mudblood lover?" His eyes shot towards Lily

James' hand twitched violently, his mind begging his body to grab his wand and hex the slimy snake. He steadied himself, his eyes looking towards Lily. His posture and body language deflated as he made eye contact with her.

"You're not worth it," James said, turning around.

If asked, people would say that there was no way James could have avoided the punch.

That's what anyone would have said, if asked.

Except Lily Evans.

She knew James' reflexes better than that. She saw him notice, almost immediately as he turned around, Nott's shoulder move to pull his arm into a punching motion. She had seen him play with that Snitch of his for years, his reflexes nearly perfect. She knew Nott's fist was practically moving in slow motion for him, that he would have been completely capable of moving out of the way. She was expecting it, honestly, that he would avoid the punch and give Nott the fight that the Slytherin boy so wanted.

For James' part, he knew that Nott was going to punch him as soon as he turned away. Even if he hadn't seen Nott's shoulder tense, he knew. His first instinct was to duck out of the way, avoid the punch and give in to the instincts of his right hand, which so desperately wanted his wand. But, for a moment, he thought of flame-licked red hair and watched the first, as if slowed by a time turner, come towards his head.

Sometimes we can't explain why we do something.

There was a sick cracking sound as his face hit the adjacent wall and James passed out.

* * * * * * * *

"Ah!" Was the next thing James heard, a declarative cry out of Madam Pomfrey's mouth. He had waken up from unconsciousness in the Hospital Wing enough times to recognize the sound without any other telling sensory explorations.

"This is trip number fifty-two, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, not unkindly as she came with a small vial of a potion that she gave to James who was blinking his eyes painfully, as they were not yet able to make sense of the light, "Please try not to make it to three digits."

James laughed a bit, choking down his potion as he did so. He laid back down on the hospital bed, the potion doing its work and rocking him gently into a natural - not fist-induced - sleep.

He woke up just after sunset to the sound of fingers drumming themselves against the wood of the table beside his bed. His eyes adjusted quickly to the light, the pain in his head almost inconsequential after Madam Pomfrey's potion. He turned towards the source of the noise to find Lily Evans sitting in the chair adjacent his bed, staring out the window.

"Hey," James said, the confusion evident in his tone.

"Oh!" Lily cried suddenly, putting a hand over her heart. After a heavy breath, she looked at James, who was grinning incorrigibly, "You frightened me, you git."

"Sorry," James apologized, still smiling.

"Not just now," Lily added, "But earlier today, too."

James' smile dropped, "Sorry," He said, this time with more sincerity.

"I had to sort out the whole mess, of course." Lily continued quickly, making an overexaggerated effort to roll her eyes, "Sirius nearly went on a killing spree. Took down Nott and Rabastan with hexes before you hit the floor."

James laughed at the phrasing.

"Oh, Merlin," Lily cringed, "That was a terrible thing to say, wasn't it?"

"No, no," James assured her, "It was funny."

"Of course you would think something like that was funny," Lily scoffed.

James rolled his eyes, smiling, "So you gave Sirius detention? Nott, too, I'm assuming. I'm _hoping_."

"Yes, Potter," Lily agreed, "I did give Nott detention. Sirius, as well, though I went lenient on him because he was doing it just in your defense and, after those first two hexes, Remus was able to get a hold on the situation."

"'Course he was," James said, much like a proud father.

"It's easy to forget he's a prefect when he hangs around you and Sirius so much," Lily said with forced exasperation.

"I think he forgets it, too, when we get into scuffles like that," James grinned.

There was a lull in the conversation, made somehow more awkward by the smile still lingering on James' face. It was the first time he had smiled at her, she noted, since before the prank. Lily began to play with her own hands, her gaze drifting to the window behind him. The grin slowly slid off of James' features, but he continued looking at her.

"Why did you let him hit you, James?" Lily asked softly, her gaze not leaving the window.

"What are you on about?" James asked, seriously.

"James, you've had that Snitch of yours for three or four years now," Lily said firmly, finally turning to face him again, "With reflexes like that, you could have avoided that punch with time to spare."

"He sucker punched me!" James cried, indignant, "I had my back to him, if you remember!"

Her eyes narrowed at him, her mouth opening to continue the argument. The words died before they left her though, though, as she saw him wince in pain from the exertion of yelling, "I shouldn't be picking a fight with you when you're hurt like this," Lily mumbled, as she handed him a vial that Madam Pomfrey had left for Lily to give to him if his pain flared.

"Shouldn't be picking a fight with me at all," James grumbled petulantly, holding a hand to his head and taking the potion with the other.

Lily rolled her eyes, but a small smile played across her lips, "James," She said softly, sitting back down in her chair, "I saw you. I could tell that you had seen Nott get ready to punch you."

James didn't reply, just grimaced either from the taste of the potion, the memory of the punch, or his distaste for the current conversation. How do you explain to someone why you did something, when you don't have the faintest idea?

Or, maybe, he did know. But he just didn't want to admit it.

"Deserved it," James said quietly, not looking at Lily.

"What?" Lily asked, furrowing her brow and leaning closer.

"I deserved it," James said forcefully, still not changing his posture, his arm still slung across his face.

"James," Lily said, "You just teased him a bit, that's hardly-"

James cut her off, "Not for what I said to him," He said sharply, finally looking at Lily.

"Oh," Lily stopped herself, knowing immediately what James was referring to.

Again the awkward pair lapsed into silence.

James was punishing himself. He had as much as admitted it to her. She didn't know what exactly to make of the idea. She was partly flattered at his remorse, partly flabbergasted at his manner of self-punishment, partly reproachful at his barbarism but, mostly...

"I'm sorry, James," She said quietly.

Mostly apologetic.

"For what?" James questioned.

"For making you feel like you did something to deserve that," Lily said, unable to meet his eyes, "We might not get along, James, but just because I say something horrible to you doesn't mean you deserve something like this."

"Why are you here, Lily?" James asked, his voice hard.

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, thrown off by the sudden change in tone and subject, "I'm here to make sure you're okay."

"You said it yourself, we don't get along," James said, tiredly, "So why check up on me?"

"I meant that we don't get along all the time, James," Lily said patiently, "As much as I'm a bit surprised by it, you've been a great help these past couple weeks, helping me deal with-" She stumbled over her words, "With my parents. We don't always get along, but you've helped. I wanted to help, too."

James softened a bit, a soft ghost of a smile blessing his features, "Well, thank you, then," He paused for a moment, "You know what would really help?"

"What's that?" Lily asked, the tension she didn't know was there releasing itself in her chest, she was glad they were on good terms again.

"If you slept right here tonight," James grinned, patting a spot in the bed next to him.

Lily groaned, trying to keep herself from laughing, "You're an idiot."

"That's not a no!" James replied.

"No, Potter," Lily said forcefully, but she was fighting a smile.

"Ah, well," James said carelessly, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling, folding his hands behind his head, "There's always trip fifty-three."

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: Sorry about the delay, figuring out how to do this chapter was very difficult and I understand if you might be confused. I'll try to clear up this and explain the next pair of chapters. I skipped ahead to April 3rd, two days after the Marauders April Fool's Prank. The next chapter April 2nd and the following April 1st, and they will make this chapter make a lot more sense. That being said, onto my wonderful reviewers!**

**kittyatza: Thank you. It was intended to be a bit more adorable than other chapters.**

**fath8252: That's what's great about only putting in two extremes, I either get "adoring" or "scathing" and none of this mucking about in between. ;) Thanks for the review. I will, at some point, go over this and correct the little grammatical mistakes but, for now, I'm concentrating on actually getting this out. I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thanks!**

**Charity Errs: I think Frank Sinatra might have issues with you calling him "adorable" so maybe we should just stick with James. :) Thanks for the review!**

**hushpuppy22: Your kind words mean a lot, thank you so much. I always have thought that James was probably the most misrepresented character in fanfiction, it was actually the big inspiration for this piece. So thank you for enjoying my James. I went ahead and took your advice and put this on another site (), but I'm not really familiar with any other fanfiction sites of note. Any suggestions?**

**DanceDiva: Thank you for the reply. I try to work in as much as I possibly can from canon sources. I do little bits of research here and there to work in little tidbits here and there. I like the idea of a Lily Phase, too, because it's an easy and less obtrusive way to work in her popularity into this story. I got the idea for the Lily/James character thing from a song I wrote a long time ago called "The Masquerade Ball" which just was about how people tend to act more like how they want to if they can believe it's not really them. I think that's true and it's the idea I wanted to present here.**

**Yvonne Park: Thanks for the review! Those Marauders are fantastic, I agree. Comfortable silence is one of the most desirable parts of a friendship, and I think they would definitely have that.**

**KaceyO: Thank you! And aren't drunken conversations always kind of hysterical? :)**

**mebmarker24: Oh no! Expectations! Don't do it! I'm fine being the underdog! :) I'm glad I was able to bring a fresh perspective in a bit of an overused plot device (I think I'm trying it again this chapter). I think the key is not to over do or rush any of these things. It's easy to get carried away with a lot of these gimmicks, or to use them to rush things too quickly, but I've been trying to keep a hard rein on things, as I have the general timeline of events set in my head. I hope I continue to entertain!**


	9. Coins

_April 2nd, the day after the prank_.

There's a Muggle phrase, "There are two sides to every coin."

It's true, of course, but it's one of those phrases that is repeated ad nauseam until the meaning is no longer apparent. Once the proper context and syntax of the phrase is learned, the actual purpose of it seems to disappear like starlight in the city. The houses of Hogwart's were as susceptible to the truth of that oft-ignored phrase as anything else. The Sorting Hat would immediately acknowledge this truism for, often, it wasn't a person's strengths but their weaknesses that pushed a student on the line between two houses into one house or the other.

The most glaring duality was that of Sytherin house. Their most positive qualities included the lateral thinking required to trick their way out of situations where they weren't the smartest or the strongest as well as an ambitious streak that could run the gamut from harmless, such as Professor Slughorn, to totalitarian, like the Dark Wizards that had come from that house. Their negative qualities were obvious and glaring: A penchant for those obsessed with blood purity and a distaste for acceptance of others.

Gryffindor house had its own obvious pros and cons. While it was home to the bravest of students - and that bravery came in all different kinds; the bravery of taking a spell for your friend and the bravery of being your own person - it was also home to the student body's most arrogant and hot-headed castle-dwellers. Sirius Black and James Potter were enough to testify to both of these "sides of the coin."

Ravenclaw's positive attributes were perhaps the most obvious. The intelligence and studiousness associated with the house often made other students jealous, at worst, or ask their Ravenclaw brethren for help on assignments, at best. But that same penchant for deep thought and deep wells of knowledge masked the fact that often, Ravenclaws could detach themselves from reality, keeping their knowledge inside and making them occasionally anti-social.

For its part, Hufflepuff was known as the house of loyalty. It was a misnomer that Hufflepuff students lacked in talent; many of them could be just as intelligent as a Ravenclaw, or as brazen as a Gryffindor. Some Hufflepuff students did have these deficiencies, of course, but many of them were chosen to that house because of their ability to empathize and care about others as much as they did themselves. Their greatest flaw, however, was a quiet fear; an inability to reach out for what they themselves desired.

No one is perfect.

It's another phrase that is written off as truth, but not examined for its true meaning. It's one thing to know that no one is perfect, but it's another thing to understand that a person's flaws are as intrinsically a part of their character as the wonderful parts of them. You have to accept both sides of the coin to be able to make any headway with a person, whether that be in work, in friendship, or in love. A person's flaws don't create a barrier between two people, they break those barriers down.

Even if it's uncomfortable. Even if its inconvenient.

Any sort of relationship always is both.

* * * * * * * *

It was the first day that Lily's first thoughts after she woke up weren't of her parents.

In fact, it wasn't until breakfast in the Great Hall, when she grabbed for a muffin and noticed that it was blueberry, her mother's favorite, that she first thought of them. Yes, her hand hovered over the muffin plate for too long to be entirely unnoticeable and, yes, she had to fight away the overwhelming sadness and panic from her stomach but it was something. It was a little bit of hope to hold on to.

The first thing she thought of when she woke up April 2nd was if her plush pet was still going to be by her side, like it was when she went to sleep, and if her skin was still going to be obnoxiously, if joyously, colored. Her first thoughts for the day, for the first time since the damned black envelope, were - if not happy, then more lighthearted. Her pet was there and her skin, while beginning to fade, still was colored faintly. She smiled a bit at the idea of the prank. It had been a good one.

Even after the muffin (she had taken it without noting the delay and began eating it, her gaze holding strong but fooling no one), she had enough goodwill in her to start small talk with her friends, something she had been avoiding. In the small talk, she too often found herself with the ability to think and wanted to avoid it as much as possible, but the smiling faces and low, happy voices, were enough to allow her thoughts a modicum of peace that wasn't present before.

Even her daily trip to the library, to finish off homework early, was less an intense practice in avoiding anything outside of her school work and more actually taking the time to do her work. She used to enjoy doing her work. There was something about the sense of relief that she felt when she finished a particularly difficult assignment that made her feel almost buoyant. Amos Diggory had accompanied her, as they were both working on the same Transfiguration assignment. Amos was always good company and, even though it seemed she had been turning him down, he still was a good friend to her.

"Transfiguration," Amos said, dully, as they were finally wrapping up their assignment. His own pet was perched on his shoulder, "Not my favorite."

"Are you daft?" Lily asked, "McGonagall is probably the best teacher here!"

"I'm not going to disagree with you," Amos said, laughing at Lily's passion, "She certainly knows her stuff. But the theories behind it and the actually application of them can be mind-bogglingly difficult."

"Oh, well, that's because, as we established before, you are daft," Lily teased.

"I'm fairly certain you merely asked if I was daft," Amos corrected, his voice adopting a faux-lofty tone, "Never did we ever reach a consensus whether the answer to that question was yes or no."

"I did," Lily insisted, "I most definitely reached a consensus with myself that you're daft."

Amos laughed at Lily's antics, enthralled by her humor and personality. He was glad to see her coming out of her shell a little more. She still hadn't spoken with anyone (it seemed) about what information the black envelope contained, but it seemed as though she was beginning to make some sort of peace with it.

"Well, there you have it," Amos declared, clapping his hands together definitively, "I'm daft."

"Glad you see it my way," Lily grinned, beginning to put away her books. Her own pet had nestled a home for itself in her back pocket. As she bent over to put her materials into her bag, Amos noticed it and took a goofy glance at his own pet.

"Those guys are ridiculous," Amos said, shaking his head and laughing.

"They are," Lily agreed.

"The skin color?" Amos crowed, "Too much! And how'd they pull it off, even?"

"I have no idea, but it was a spectacular prank. Everyone has loved it," Lily said fondly, closing up her book bag she continued, "I'm going to put the books back in their place for Madam Pince, alright, Amos? Thanks for helping."

For a moment Amos hesitated from getting up out of his chair, his pet looking at him oddly as he did so. After an awkward moment, he shook his head, a grin back on his features, "Yeah, no problem. Though you did more helping than I did, really."

Lily smiled at the compliment, "Oh, nonsense."

"It's true!" Amos insisted, beginning to head towards the library's entrance, "Have a good night, Lily."

"You, too, Amos," Lily returned, beginning to put back the books.

For a few minutes Lily busied herself with finding the proper places for the books in the library. True, that was typically Madam Pince's job, as the librarian, but there was something peaceful and satisfying for Lily seeing everything put in its right place. Perhaps it was just a way of being able to control her situation. At a time in her life when there was nothing certain and, as soon as she left the halls of Hogwart's, there was absolutely nothing in its right place, she could take a few minutes out of her day and see to it that at least some portion of her life was organized properly.

There was something about Hogwarts that, even when something unfathomably dire and serious was happening outside of its walls, that you almost could ignore it when you were there. Sirius Black, for example, could forget, for a moment, that his mother and father hated him, that he was the black sheep of his family. Lily could never forget that her parents had passed away but, somehow, she could forget that they wouldn't be there to pick her up on the last day of classes. She could forget that she didn't have a place to live over summer break. She could forget the ever-growing rift between her and her sister.

Sometimes, it was okay to forget.

Suddenly, Lily heard a surprised, angry yelp come from outside of the library. She immediately recognized Amos' voice, which seemed to be yelling a bit in pain. She put the last of her books away, walking quickly in the direction of the voice, to try and see if anything could be done.

When she came upon him, she found that his once soft and fluffy pet had turned into a much more realistic version of what it was modeled after and seemed to be scratching madly at Amos. Amos' hand looked pretty cut up; he had been trying to get to his wand, but to no avail. His skin was a hideous shade of blaze orange, like a tanning accident or a life vest.

"_Immobulus_," She shouted, pointing it at the vicious thing. It immediately came to a stop before popping out of existence.

Amos looked down at his hand and then back up at me, "What the _bloody hell_ was that?"

* * * * * * * *

There are few things that can upset a person more than feeling duped. When people are forced to adjust their perceptions to a reality that has become the exact opposite of what they perceived, the first and most natural reaction is anger. When Severus Snape called her a mudblood, that was the last time that Lily had felt this duped.

When she saw James in the Gryffindor Common Room, he was flipping a coin nonchalantly, speaking easily to Sirius and Remus in a corner. There didn't seem to be other students around, the other sixth year Gryffindors with a free period must have been out.

"I should have known better," Lily muttered angrily, not even bothering to yell.

"Evans!" Sirius shouted, not having heard what she said, "How're you?!"

"You four are _terrible_!" She shouted, causing Sirius to take a stunned step back. James looked at her curiously, but not entirely surprised, and Remus shook his head exasperatedly at his two friends.

"What are you on about, Evans?" Sirius asked.

"Your _stupid_ prank, Black, that's what I'm on about," She spat, "What'd Amos _ever_ do to you three, huh? What'd he do to deserve-"

James scoffed loudly, interrupting Lily's rant suddenly as she gave him a violently look.

"Of course, this is something to do with Diggory," James said obnoxiously.

"And what does _that_ mean?" Lily growled.

James continued on, ignoring her question, "We didn't do a bloody thing to your boyfriend," he said casually, flipping the coin again, it's metallic surface catching the occasional reflection of light.

Lily quietly fumed, deciding to ignore the boyfriend comment, "So, I suppose you have nothing to do with his pet suddenly deciding to attack him and now he has go to the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes and no," James said casually, knowing his laid-back demeanor was infuriating Lily.

"You're foul," Lily said, lowly, "You're no better than you were last year, hexing people in the halls because they happened to be there, then pretending to be so righteous. How dare you. You're no better than Mulciber or Nott, attacking people just because you can."

She finally seemed to have struck a nerve. James let the coin drop to the ground; it clanged loudly against the stone floor as James' entire posture seemed to shift. Remus and Sirius looked shocked at Lily's words and they looked worryingly at James.

"Don't you dare compare me to scum like that, Evans," James said, his voice low and dangerous.

Lily ignored the change in tone, "What, you can't handle the truth?"

"Do you want to know_ why_ that little bastard's pet attacked him?" James asked, letting his anger loose.

"Oh, you mean there's a reason beyond, 'It's more the fact that he exists'?" Lily noted, with both satisfaction and regret, that a second of hurt passed across James' features as he noted the throwback to the end of last school year. It was gone in an instant, though, replaced by even more anger.

"We charmed the things to turn on someone who was giving in to the weaknesses of their House, Evans!" James yelled, "So, bad luck, mate, but that doesn't change just because you fancy a bloke! If he acts like a git, he still has to face the repercussions!"

"What are you even _talking_ about, the weaknesses of their house?!" Lily yelled.

"Every house has got good traits and bad traits, Evans," Now James' tone had turned to condescending, "Slytherins are always looking to get ahead, but they can be awful and mean, Gryffindors are brave, but can be hotheaded, Ravenclaws are book smart, but can be tactless, and your boyfriend's house is loyal, but can be cowards."

Lily tried to will herself not to be impressed that the Marauders had someone managed to charm the pets to work on that complicated of a set of guidelines.

"So," James continued, "Obviously, Amos must have chickened out of something. Which, you guessed it, Evans," he leered obnoxiously, "Isn't my bloody fault."

"That was a terrible thing to do, regardless, Potter," Lily spat, still angry, "Who are you to judge what are the best and worst characteristics of a house, anyway?"

"We looked the damn things up in _Hogwart's: A History_, Evans," James spat back, "So get off your damn high horse."

"No one deserves what happened to Amos, Potter," Lily argued.

"Yes!" Yelled James, "Some people do!"

"You know what?" Lily said, suddenly, her voice vicious, "You're right. _You _do."

Lily turned around and stomped up to the sixth year Gryffindor girls' dorms, unaware of that one thoughtless reply would lead to.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: My God, that argument was so freaking difficult to write. And I'm sorry for the occasionally akward wording regarding the 'pets' and the 'colored skin'. I don't want to spoil the prank before it actually happens! ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**Yvonne Park: Thanks for the kind words. This chapter's James is a little less lovable than the last chapter's, but hopefully he's still your favorite!**

**M'rika: It's fun trying to change James without actually changing him. I always figured that his change would be so subtle that he wouldn't even notice it himself, you know? Hopefully I'm pulling that off! Thanks for the review!**

**: Thanks for the two reviews! Hopefully this wasn't too long of a wait for you. I'm glad you love this James, I really enjoy writing him.**

**mebmarker24: See what I said about expectations! Do away with them! Now! :) Anyway, I'm glad that I was able to direct you properly through the experience of last chapter. I suppose my perception of the Lily/James interaction at the end of that chapter is different since I know already what happened. Hopefully this chapter contextualizes that conversation a bit! Thanks for the review!**


	10. Time

_April 1st, the day of the prank._

Time travel is one of the more interesting concepts that humankind has ever thought up. The principal of time travel dates back all the way to the late 1700s, but began truly making its way into the public consciousness over the course of the 1800s, culminating in the classic H.G. Wells novella, The Time Machine. In typical human fashion, the idea caught on and became a catalyst for real, scientific work towards making the fantasy of the imagination of reality.

Human kind often works in this way, where a seeming impossibility is imagined in a form of fiction or art, and then as this idea catches the public eye people work towards making it a reality. Flight, for example, had been a staple of the human imagination since the days of Da Vinci, until it was actualized most famously by the Wright Brothers in the early 1900s.

One of the things that constantly keeps the Wizarding world and the Muggle world connected is that imagination. Both worlds are enthralled with the same ideas and the same human desire to make their ideas a reality. Wizards, of course, have a distinct advantage in magic. They can make the ideas that took humans hundreds of years to life do the same in much less time.

While human beings have yet to make their own dreams of time travel a reality, wizards had. The Time Turner was invented in 1843 by a French Wizard named Luvin Del Mar. It was a process that had taken him around twenty-three years. As with any invention, Del Mar had his own share of misadventures in the Time Turner's creation. For awhile, he could only move the Time Turner itself back through time. It took him roughly four years to figure out the mechanism with which the Time Turner would bring a Wizard with it on its journey. Again as with any invention, it's first iteration was far more simple than it would eventually come to be. The very first Time Turner was only three grains of sand, one for each minute you could travel back in time.

The ideas behind time travel are as important as the idea of time travel itself. There are, of course, two kinds of time travel. Travelling through time into the future, and travelling through time into the past. Travelling through time into the future, as a literary device, was to make a comment about the present. To suggest where the world would end up if the darker portions of the human condition were allowed to run free. As an actuality, however, time travel into the future is borne of a much simpler thing: Curiosity. The only reason for a person to desire to travel into the future is a sheer curiosity of what the world will be like x number of y amount of time from now.

The idea of travelling into the past, however, is a much more interesting prospect. It is a prospect where the literary reason and the actual reason line up. People travel into the past to change things. They find something unsatisfactory about that period of time and, in travelling backwards, hope to change something to make the present more satisfying. All Time Turners are, of course, under strict supervision of their respective Ministries of Magic for precisely this reason. Only those whose purposes for the Time Turner are determined to be benign are allowed to use them. But even those people are using them because they find something about the past needs changing. Maybe it's simply that they feel as though they should be attending two classes that happen to be scheduled at the same time, but something about the time that has passed has failed to meet their needs.

There were a lot of people in 1976 who felt this way.

* * * * * * * *

There was a palpable electricity in the air at Hogwart's the morning of April 1st. With good reason, of course. Over the course of their six years at the school, the Marauders antics on April Fool's Day had earned a reputation. While in the earlier years, their pranks were minor goofs, in accordance with their less than impressive magical skills (though they were beyond what most younger students were capable of). Beginning in their fourth year, however, the day had turned into a sort of spectacle. What exactly would they do? How would the faculty try to plan against their schemes? Would the entire school be involved, or just the Slytherins? The most pertinent question on most students minds was, "How much detention are they going to have to serve for this?"

Oddly enough, the answer to that question this time would be, "None at all."

In the grand scheme of things, in and of itself, the prank was insignificant. It could be reduced to nothing more than a mere distraction. But distractions were what got people by in times like these. Witches and wizards couldn't allow themselves to ponder interminably on the seriousness of the time. Often, they didn't. The Daily Prophet, the words coming from the Ministry of Magic; These, too, eventually amounted to nothing more than distractions, keeping away from the terrible truth of a Dark Lord on the rise. If the April Fool's Day prank was a distraction, at least it was honest, something the Prophet and the Ministry couldn't always claim.

It didn't happen in the morning.

It never happened in the morning. Some of the reason for this was sheer laziness; The Marauders couldn't be expected to wake up early just to satisfy the student body's curiosity about their prank. Most of the reason, though, was the anticipation. The four boys loved the whispers around the hall. They loved people asking all those questions of everyone they knew. The loved it even more when someone had the guts to ask _them_ those questions. There was something about the anxious energy that pervaded that made them feel like they had truly accomplished something, the prank itself almost became a sideshow compared to the emotion of the moments before it.

Then again, the prank itself was always pretty fun.

The foursome was especially secretive this time around about the substance of their prank. Other years, they never exactly let it slip, but some of the questions the students had would be answered before the prank occurred. While some of the mystery was dissipated in this manner, the expectations never ceased. The word would never be completely out on a prank. With this one, however, the group made sure to keep the entire operation a secret. The Marauder's Map, James' invisibility cloak and the Room of Requirement were all used exhaustively for planning.

The secrecy wasn't a mechanism for the hype, as the prank wasn't as flashy or showy as many of their others. That wasn't what it was about. Though the boys discussed that they might, Sirius especially, want a prank that was more outwardly impressive, it was eventually agreed upon that the idea that they had come up with collectively was the right one for the time. If their new goal, as a group, was to bring joy to Hogwart's, to bring hope to Hogwart's, then this was the prank to perform.

Some students heard snippets of conversation from the group, those who were trying desperately to hear something about the highly anticipated prank. Before being escorted unceremoniously out of the room by Sirius, they might pick up a bit of tantalizing information.

Like Remus saying, "Just to be safe, it should probably only last 24 hours."

Or Sirius asking, "I know it's a show of good faith, but do we _really_ have to involve ourselves?"

Or simply seeing James' maniacal grin as he was walking between classes, a particularly enjoyable daydream apparently crossing his mind.

At one point, Marlene McKinnon tried to flirt it out of the boys. Normally not ones to resist the attention of a pretty girl, James and Sirius played along for a bit, but after ascertaining the purpose of her advances, they were quickly put out; They had good-naturedly shunned the Ravenclaw a bit over the course of the following days, turning their noses up at her whenever they passed by in the halls in an exaggerated fashion, to the laughs of many other students, and the blush of the girl.

That April 1st morning, in the palpable electricity, the boys did this one last time as they walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. They knew that all eyes were on them, but they merely grinned in a self-satisfied and conniving fashion, knowing when exactly the prank would take place and how exactly it would be happening. As the other tables whispered amongst themselves, and their own fellow Gryffindors looked warily at them, as if they might spontaneously combust at any moment, the kept smiling. James waved at a group of Hufflepuffs looking expectantly his way. He laughed at those who were worrying.

It wouldn't happen in the morning.

* * * * * * * *

It didn't happen during morning classes either.

Even the teachers seemed to have picked up on the subtle tension of the day. They eyed the group with apprehension at every action, whether it be as simple as walking through the door to the classroom or as suspicious as complex hand gestures towards the others. These gestures, the Marauders knew, were absolute bollocks, something they did to scare the new Defense Against the Dark Arts prof (And why was it that there was a new one every year?) or to annoy McGonnagal, who alone among professors knew that the complicated motions meant nothing.

"Boys," The Gryffindor Head of House said exasperatedly as James and Sirius appeared to be making shadow puppets at each other from across the room.

"Yes, Professor McGonnagal?" Sirius asked, in a tone that could best be described as "kiss-arse."

"Would one of you kindly tell me what I've been talking about?" McGonnagal challenged.

"I'll take this one," James said easily, as the Professor looked him expectantly, "Transfiguration."

"Five points from Gryffindor," McGonnagal said just as easily.

"Hey!" Sirius protested, "But that was right!"

Showing both annoyance and infinite patience, the Transfiguration professor put a tired hand to her face before begrudgingly giving in, "Very well, Mr. Black. If Mr. Potter can give me an answer. A _proper_ answer," She added at James' wide smile, "Then I will give back the points I just removed."

There was a slight giggle in the classroom as Professor McGonnagal turned once again to James, "Well, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, I could be wrong here," James breezed, "But I believe you were telling us about principles that go into transfiguring surfaces when dealing with organic to inorganic transformations," There was a disbelieving lull, though this was an often occurrence - The Marauders goofing off, but still intimately knowing what was going on - it still impressed many students, "Specifically," James continued in the silence, "How by concentrating on the feel of a surface you can more effectively create it."

McGonnagal sighed, "Five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Despite herself, Lily couldn't help but smile a bit at the antics of the boys. Normally, it was exactly this sort of behavior that raised her ire when it came to James and the Marauders, et al. But, ever since the party, she started to divide James a bit in her head. These moments, these frustratingly funny moments, were a product of Frank Sinatra. Those nights in the Common Room, those were James Potter. The more she thought about it, Lily couldn't begrudge James wanting to be Frank Sinatra as often as possible. Who wouldn't? As frustrating as they could be, and often were, it was impossible not to respect them. Even if she sometimes thought it a bit showy, the ostentatious manner in which they would display their talents, it was impossible to deny that the group knew the ins and outs of magic, when they could be bothered. It was something she was both jealous of - she wasn't too proud to admit it - and held in admiration.

She was looking forward to the prank, though also dreading it. She had requested it, of course, but she still was a bit nervous about the whole ordeal. While the pranks the boys had been perpetrating recently were enjoyable, both for herself and for the school as a whole, she was worried that the boys might take her vocal agreement for the ordeal too far, not to mention their propensity for dramatics on this day of all days. She was one of the many who were waiting with baited breath during the morning classes.

She needn't have.

It wouldn't happen during morning classes.

* * * * * * * *

It happened at lunch.

Of course it happened when all the students were together at roughly the same time. It just made too much sense. During breakfast, aside from it being "too bloody early for the Marauders" (Sirius' words), many students came in incredibly early to get a jump on the day ahead, or very late, trying to extend their sleep as long as possible without missing a meal. Some students, too many for the foursome's taste, went without breakfast entirely.

Morning classes wouldn't have worked, either. There was no way for them to be in enough places at a single time to pull the prank on the vast amount of students they wanted to. Maybe if they had been allowed Time Turners, but their petitions to the Ministry to obtain four of the items for "mischief and tomfoolery" (Remus' words) were denied outright.

It was almost impossible to tell that it was going to happen at any moment when you looked at them, unless you knew them as well as they knew each other. Their grins were all a little wider, Sirius' a bit more mischievous than the others, Remus', while present, just stretched a bit thin, always worrying, and Peter's was practically giddy with anticipation. James' was incredibly relaxed, a bit of devil-may-care charm present on his features.

Maybe not all of the students were there yet, but James' relaxed smile was merely hiding an anxious impatience. He stood up on the Gryffindor table.

He didn't say anything for awhile, merely kept standing on the table as the student body's eyes began to take notice of the odd sight. The Gryffindors were, of course, the quickest to realize, and any and all conversation at the table quickly quieted when the 16-year old stood. The Ravenclaws, ever aware of their surroundings, were the next, as intrigued by the Marauders as they were occasionally jealous of the foursome's brilliance. The Slytherins, upon noticing, refused to quiet down, instead trying to increase the bombast of their own conversations to draw attention away from James. But the forced hubbub only caused the Hufflepuffs to quickly catch on to what was happening.

Once almost all the eyes of the Great Hall were on him, James held his arms out to his friends, pulling them up on the table with them.

There was no verbal fanfare, only a secret smile between the friends before they simply shouted:

"APRIL FOOL'S!"

Immediately, small objects began to fall from the ceiling of the Great Hall. The Marauders quickly flicked their wands in turn and the objects, as if suddenly reaching the end of their strings, stopped and hovered for a moment above each student's head before falling slowly, like a leaf on the breeze, onto the student body's shoulders.

They were miniature versions of the House Mascots. For each Gryffindor, a pet lion, for each Hufflepuff, a badger, for each Ravenclaw, their own raven, and for each Slytherin their own snake.

The students, a bit awed by the animals, took careful glances at their pets, as if expecting them to do something horrible. Still standing at their tables, the Marauders held out a finger to their own lions. The lions playfully swatted at the boys' fingers and, as soon as the two made contact, the boys' skin color burst into brilliant red and gold. There was a smattering of laughter at the inanity of the boys appearance, quickly followed by cursory touches of their own pets. As soon as the pet made contact with the skin of its student, that students skin would burst into the brilliant colors of that student's house. Even the Slytherins seemed a bit curious, though many couldn't avoid the color change, as their snakes quickly slithered from one shoulder to the other and touched the skin of their necks.

"Once again," James said loudly, and the commotion quickly quieted, "April Fool's."

There was a loud outpouring of applause from the student body.

"The animals and skin color last for twenty-four hours," Remus continued, "If you're a good member of your house."

There was a confused silence as to what that meant but, before any questions could be asked, Sirius interjected, "So show house pride! Me, I'm going to go out and wrestle the Whomping Willow."

The laughter dissipated the curiosity about Remus' qualifier.

Lily Evans smiled at her own lion, which was now playfully gnawing at her ear. The small teeth were soft and its paws clawless, so it felt a bit like someone tugging at her with a blanket. She giggled, grabbing the happy cat in her hands, where it proceeded to bat at her fingers with the energy of a kitten. She laughed even more at the differing color of her hands, the one full, glittering gold and the other a deep, proud red. Looking around the bustling student body, she caught sight of James, receiving pats on the back and general congratulations from other students, many from non-Gryffindor students.

'You gotta have both', he had told her. This was both. It was both Frank and James. They were different sides of the same coin.

She smiled.

* * * * * * * *

_April 3rd, two days after the prank._

"Ah, well," James said carelessly, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing, folding his hands behind his head as he addressed Lily Evans, "There's always trip fifty-three."

Time travel is one of the most interesting ideas that humankind has thought up and, with the invention of the Time Turner, it had become a possibility for the Wizarding World. It was a dangerous prospect, time travel, and was only really used because there was something about that time that had passed that the person deemed unsatisfactory.

It wouldn't be an entirely inappropriate question to ask of James Potter on the days after April 3rd if he regretted anything about those three days. If James Potter been in possession of a Time Turner (to those that knew him, they wouldn't have been entirely surprised if he did), would have used the object to go back to April 1st and change the outcome of events.

It was a valid question to ask.

After a long silence, Lily spoke again, "You were right, you know."

"'Course I was," It was James' traditional reply to this statement, Lily noted with a bit of humor, "About what?"

"Amos. I told him what you said and asked him if it was true, if he had been a coward about something," Lily confessed.

"Yeah? What'd Diggory have to say?" James tried to play the question off nonchalantly, but he subconsciously leaned forward in his bed.

"He said that he was going to ask me out again, in the library, but he chickened out," Lily said plainly.

"That'd do it," James said simply, trying to betray nothing of his own emotions, and slumped back into his pillow.

"I was flattered-" Lily began

"Sure," James interrupted, "What's not to be flattered by?"

"But I said no," Lily finished.

The bluntness of the statement, it was the type of bluntness James often employed to this same effect, Lily noticed with satisfaction, caused James to stiffen a bit. Other than the very slight movement, his body still betrayed nothing. He kept silent.

"I don't," Lily stumbled over her words a bit, "I don't _fancy_ him," She explained, unsure why she was, "Maybe I did, but after..." She trailed off.

"After, yeah," James supplied for her, offering her a way out of saying it.

"It just doesn't seem right," She took James' silent offer.

She folded her hands together, her nervous energy searching for something to do. She settled for wringing them each in turn, "He doesn't know enough."

"Yeah," James said neutrally, then warmed his tone as he said again, "Yeah, I get that."

It was a valid question to ask, but James Potter would never have touched a time turner on the days following April 3rd.

He had lost the betting pool. He couldn't have been happier.

*** * * * * * * ***

**A/N: Really, the length of time between this chapter and the last one was inexcusable. (Not that I don't have excuses, trust me, I do. :-D ) Hopefully you won't have given up on me after this delay, and hopefully you enjoyed the unveiling of the Marauders prank. It was quite unique, I think. ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**Yvonne Park: As always, thanks for reviewing and keeping with the story. It's much appreciated. Hopefully you thought the prank lived up to their magical abilities!**

**The Third Marauder: Thanks for pointing out the POV switch! Can't believe I messed that up, but I tend to READ HP fanfics while I'm writing them, so I probably was reading a first-person one at the time. I'm glad you enjoy the story! I've tried to flesh out the characters as realistically as I possibly can. Too much fanfiction has the Marauders and Lily as decidedly one dimensional, so I've tried to add depth to them. Thanks for the review!**

**KaceyO: Thanks very much! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and thank you for continuing to follow it!**

**mebmarker24: I'm glad the argument worked for you. I hope I satisfied your desire for a reminder of what has happened over the course of the three days. I had a few much more dramatic iterations that I thought ended up far too overwrought and scrapped for the version you read last chapter. As far as your questions, they're very pertinent but, as I couldn't answer many of them in the text of this chapter (what with it being before this chapter and all), I'll try to next chapter. And, if I don't, my author's note will. I promise. Hopefully my wrap-up here was satisfactory! Thanks for thinking so much of this story, and thanks for continuing to review!**

**majorGIT: Ahhh! So much excitement! Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so much. I know I haven't reviewed (I'm really bad at doing it, though I should), I've been keeping up with your story "What We Knew Was Very Little At All" quite religiously. It's very good! Thanks for keeping up with this story and reviewing!**


	11. Change

Lily noticed that she had begun focusing more on little details than she had before. She noticed patterns in the contours of gum stuck to the bottom of desks. She noticed the grain of wood, the direction of it. She knew there was a proper way you were supposed to sand wood, depending on the grain, but she didn't know the rule of thumb. She noticed the eccentricities in the way separate the separate branches of the Whomping Willow fluttered in the breeze.

Things change.

There had been good days, days when she could not exactly forget, but not exactly remember that her parents had...

Died.

It was hard to even think the word.

On the day of the stupid Slug Club Plus thing, or the day of the prank and its fallout, she could forget. On days when she was up to her eyeballs in schoolwork (or at least _felt_ like she was up to her eyeballs in the schoolwork), she could forget. On days when a relationship began or ended and it sent all the girls in the dorm into a teenage titter, she could forget.

It was the weekend, really, those times when she was alone in the dorm, when she struggled for something to occupy her time, or at least occupy her mind, that were the toughest. When there was nothing trivial left to push to the forefront of her thoughts and all she could dwell on was the fact that they were gone.

They were fucking gone.

She didn't even cry about it anymore, she just noticed things a bit more about the inanimate things - The things that would last. She couldn't make herself notice the details of the living things. It was too painful. When she noticed, for instance, that Mary MacDonald's smile turned up in precisely the same way as her mother's does. Did. The sudden remembrance of tense forced her to run up to the dorms, tears threatening to spill.

Things change.

When a parent dies or, heaven forbid, both parents die, things change. What changes, of course, is different for everyone. Some people can no longer have a favorite dish of theirs that their parent used to make. Some people read less. Some people cry more. Lily, she started paying more attention to everything that wasn't alive.

"Lily?" Mary asked her, smiling that damn smile, "Lily, are you in there?"

Lily smiled as genuinely as she could, interrupted from nothing in particular by her friend.

"Sorry, Mary, what were you asking?" Lily asked congenially.

"Just if you had started your Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, Michelle and I were wondering if you wanted to work on it as a group," Mary supplied happily, looking on along with Michelle ("McDonald. No A. No relation," was a running joke the two girls shared with new people, but had long since passed being necessary).

"Oh," Lily said, her expression a bit vacant, "Oh, I would, but I've finished it."

"Finished it?" Mary asked, a bit impressed, "Really? Wow. You're on top of things."

"Oh, well," Lily replied tonelessly, "Need to keep up, I have prefect duties and all that, too, so..." She trailed off as an awkward silence passed.

After a few moments, Mary clapped her hands to her knees, trying to force the awkwardness away through sound waves, "Okay!" She said, a bit too brightly, "Well, Michelle and I are going to work on it, then, down in the Common Room. You can join us, if you'd like," And with that declaration, gathered her things and headed out of the dorm.

Lily turned back to the book she had lying open on her bed, the one she was reading only in the sense that she was looking at the words and turning the pages at certain intervals. She barely noticed when Michelle sat down on her bed with her.

"I haven't told anyone, you know," Michelle said slowly and softly.

For a moment, an impossibly crazy moment that Lily couldn't believe in retrospect, she had no idea what the brunette Gryffindor was talking about. She shook her head, smiling a bit, prepared to ask a polite, but bewildered question that never made it past her lips. It hit her very suddenly, and the smile dropped.

"I-" Her voice broke for a moment, "I know," Lily said, looking at her friend, "I appreciate it."

"We're all here for you, Lils," Michelle said encouragingly.

Lily smiled sadly, nodding in agreement with Michelle, but saying nothing. It was difficult to talk about when someone didn't have the whole scope of the situation. Michelle knew about her parents, something that only her and James Potter could lay claim to, but none of the other girls knew, and it was too difficult to say to someone who didn't already know. And she didn't want to explain to Michelle about Petunia, about having no place to go home to, about vinyl records that made her ask for an April Fool's Day prank. It was too much to catch someone up on, and too painful to talk about for it to be worth it.

In the silence, Michelle spoke again, "You've been getting so far from us, Lils," she lamented, "It's scary."

"Have I?" Lily asked, but without real question.

"Yes, darling," Michelle said sadly, "We miss you."

"Look, just..." Lily trailed off again.

"Yeah?" Michelle prompted, a hopeful grin playing on her features, as she hoped to hear something of substance come from the Gryffindor prefect.

"I'll be fine," Lily said with a tone of finality, "Don't worry about me."

Michelle's grin shifted a bit, as she forced her face not to drop into a frown at the sentence. A sentence that meant absolutely nothing because Lily _wasn't_ fine and everybody _would_ worry about her. Michelle knew this and, more distressingly, Lily knew this, too.

"Oh," Michelle said, "Okay."

Lily watched her friend mildly, a bit unsure about Michelle's reaction, but sat silently and watched as Michelle purposefully gathered up her things for Defense Against the Dark Arts and went down to join Mary (MacDonald. With an A. No relation).

"I'll be fine," Lily said to the empty room, and then promptly began to cry.

Things change.

* * * * * * * *

People change.

The full moon in April of 1976 came on Wednesday the 14th. It would be the eighteenth time that the Marauders were planning on joining him for their monthly run about the Forbidden Forest (the first time had been, perhaps ironically, on Halloween of 1974), a prospect that always simultaneously frightened and thrilled Remus.

There was always, of course, a part of him that couldn't believe that he allowed the wildly dangerous activity to continue, but he would see the way Sirius' face would light up, and Peter would puff up his chest because it couldn't be possible without him and James would smile at the three of them, like they were his own damn children and Remus would sigh, but he would also smile because it was so much better on the nights he got to run.

He couldn't believe, of course, that he had forgotten that he was scheduled to patrol with Lily Evans on April the 15th.

"It's too late to ask any of the other prefects," Remus bemoaned, his head rotating in a frustrated manner on his shoulders, "Especially not with that Dark Arts assignment coming up," he groaned in disbelief, "Wha am I going to do?" he asked his friends, incredulous.

"Moony, we don't bloody _know_," Sirius growled, "You've asked us fifteen times in the past five minutes. Forgive us if we haven't concocted a brilliant plan, yet."

"It's a rhetorical question, Sirius," Remus snapped back, "Merlin," he moaned, "And it's too dangerous right now to let Lily patrol alone."

"I still don't see why you can't just make one of the fifth years do it," Sirius said reasonably. "I mean, I know the seventh years will just take the mickey out of you if you try to ask _them_, but you should have those berks trained by now."

Remus nearly growled, "The Heads gave them the month off from switching, because they began to complain that all the sixth and seventh years were making them do their shifts for them. So they got promised an April of no shift switching."

"And us sixthies are buried," James said.

"Sixthies?" Sirius asked, grinning, "You just come up with that?"

James smiled back, "Yeah, I've been mulling it over a bit. What do you think?"

"I like it," Sirius smirked, "Kind of insulting, yet kind of charming. It can be adapted to all sorts of-"

"Can you two ever _shut up_?" Remus snapped.

There was a brief pause in the pair as they tuned towards Remus, whose fuse was notoriously long. Usually getting him to tell them to shut up was an impossible affair. Though, admittedly, it was much easier when the full moon was approaching.

"'Course not!" James said, cheekily, the shock passing as quickly as it came.

"Haven't you learned anything about us, Moony?" Sirius asked, shaking his head in a shameful fashion.

"Well, usually your triviality is subjugated until after you've bloody _helped me out_," Remus growled.

There was a long pause.

"What's 'subjugated' mean?" Peter asked.

All three boys looked at their fourth friend incredulously. After a moment, all three noticed that the others were sharing the same ridiculous questioning expressions as their own. They simultaneously broke into abrupt laughter. Unsure, but playing along, Peter began to laugh as well. After a few moments, the entire foursome were laughing at nothing except the fact that all of them were laughing.

As usual when these things happened, it lasted for several minutes.

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius chuckled, after catching his breath, "We're so dumb."

"Agreed, mate," James said, taking deep breaths, throwing an arm around Sirius, "We certainly, certainly are."

"Speak for yourselves," Remus quipped, smiling, "I'm a paragon of intelligence."

Just as Peter opened his mouth, Remus interjected, "Don't, Pete. Don't ask."

Peter closed his mouth.

"Blimey, mate," James said, as if suddenly surprised, "I just realized, I'm not doing anything Thursday."

The other three blinked at James, confused.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"And it occurs to me," James continued, ignoring Sirius' question, "That I could probably fill in for our dear, sweet Remus."

With that, the looks from the other Marauders turned from confused to completely flabbergasted.

"James are you-- I mean, are you _sure_? I'd be so appreciative," Remus sputtered.

"Oh, Moony," James shook his head like a mother scolding her child, "Haven't you learned by now that we'd do anything for you?"

"Mate," Sirius interjected, "What are you _on about_?" He said sharply, "Doing _patrols_? Why on earth-?"

Suddenly, the expression on Sirius' face changed from harsh confusion to a dangerous grin and, after a quick second, doubled over laughing maniacally again. This time, however, nobody joined him.

"What are _you_ on about, Padfoot?" James asked, but there was an unmistakable tone of nervousness on his voice.

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius spat through his derisive laughter, "I can't believe it," He shook his head, no longer laughing, a roguish smile playing on his lips, "That's so sad, Prongs."

"What?" Peter asked slowly, "I don't get it."

"Evans!" Sirius spat out happily, laughing again, "He just wants to knock about with Evans!"

Immediately, James turned an uncomfortable shade of red, but spluttered, "Get bent, Padfoot," James said, unable to make it a proper insult.

"Lay off him, Sirius," Remus said finally, trying to assuage James' embarrassment, "I don't bloody care why James wants to do it, as long as he's going to do it."

Sirius mustered up the ability to look ashamed for a moment, but utterly failed to hold it together, as a mischievous bit of laughter kept bubbling up on his face.

If James was being completely honest with himself, it wasn't just Lily Evans that inspired his offer to take Remus' place on the patrol. No girl alone would really be enough to convince him to take the time out of his night to do something as gruesomely boring as patrol the corridors. But something in him sparked up in excitement at the idea when Remus presented them with his conundrum. He didn't know why.

People change.

* * * * * * * *

Times change.

Remus' dilemma wouldn't have been a problem last year, when Voldemort was merely a surreptitious threat, rather than an outright danger, and with that change the danger of the followers among his Slytherin students changed in the same manner. Now it was too dangerous to walk the halls alone at night, as Lily had done occasionally last year with no problems.

It wouldn't have been a problem last month (or next month, for that matter), as Remus would have just allowed James or Sirius to verbally bludgeon a poor fifth year into doing it for him. And, with the verbal gymnastics those two could pull off, the fifth year would probably think the whole ordeal was befitting himself, rather than Remus.

It wouldn't have even have been a problem last week. Last week the sixth years didn't have the intimidating Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, twenty-eight inches on the Unforgivable Curses, six on their history, six on their uses, and sixteen on how to combat them. Nobody was taking it lightly. The length of the essay wasn't the only intimidating factor. It had brought the outside world into Hogwart's in an undeniable way. Everyone was taking all of their time to write it, because no one didn't want to know, in detail, how to survive the coming war.

Lily fidgeted nervously as she sat by the portrait hole of the Gryffindor Common Room, waiting for whoever he had gotten to patrol for him. He had only been able to tell her in passing yesterday afternoon, and all he said was 'I can't do it, I'm sorry, I've got it covered.' These sentences did not comfort Lily very much, especially as she quickly found that none of the other Gryffindor Prefects were doing it for him.

She heard steps coming down from the dorms and looked up, only to see James coming down, still dressed in his school robes.

"Potter, it's past curfew," She said plainly.

"Yeah," Potter said nervously, "I know," He added hesitantly.

"Then you should probably be in bed," Lily continued, looking at him pointedly.

"No," James shook his head in confusion, but couldn't seem to say anything else.

"No?" Lily asked dangerously.

"No, I mean," James backpedaled, seemingly finally getting his head out of the clouds, "I'm patrolling for Remus."

Lily didn't say anything for a few seconds, as James came and sat down at an adjacent seat.

"What?" She finally asked, now the one confused.

"Yeah," James said, now on track, "His mum got sick the other day, yeah? And he knew the seventh years would just laugh at him on such short notice, and the Heads gave the fifth years the month off of switching and us sixthies have that massive Defense essay."

"Oh," Lily said dumbly, unable to come up with anything else.

There was an awkward silence, as both of them sat there, unsure of what to say.

"So," James broke the silence, fidgeting uncomfortably, "Shall we, then?" He asked, indicating the portrait hole.

"Oh!" Lily said again, standing up quickly, embarrassed, "Oh, right. Well," She tried to compose herself, flattening out her school robes, pressing out imaginary wrinkles, "Yes, let's go," She said with a tone of finality.

Last year, last month, hell, even last week, Lily wouldn't have been stuck with James Potter, patrolling, dumbstruck by the very idea that he was doing it willingly. Last year, last month, last week, she probably wouldn't have even accepted the help.

But times change.

* * * * * * * *

"Merlin's beard," James laughed uproariously, "That was spectacular!"

"Come off it, Potter," Lily scolded, but was unable to keep James' joyousness from spreading her lips in a smile, "It was just a snogging couple in a broom cupboard."

James laughed again, "Look, that may not be anything new to you, but you have no idea how nice it is to _not_ be the one in there, for once."

"Oh, yeah?" Lily laughed, "I never caught you or heard about you getting caught last year."

"Oh, well," James breezed, "I wasn't snogging anybody last year."

Lily stopped, James walking past a few paces before realizing it, "Really?" She asked, surprised.

"Yeah, really," James said, though not entirely as nonchalantly as he would have liked.

"Why not?" Lily said, picking up pace again.

"Lot's of reasons," James said evasively, which peaked Lily's curiosity even more. James was never evasive.

"Like what?" Lily demanded.

James sighed, struggling for words that weren't too close to the bone, "It doesn't matter," He finally settled on before, seemingly unable to help himself or just not realizing he was speaking out loud, he added, "Same reasons I'm not snogging anybody now."

Lily looked at James suspiciously, "I know I heard something about you snogging the daylights out of Hestia Jones over holidays."

James laughed, "Ah, well, it never hurts to have good press, yeah? But, no, never happened."

"Good _press_?" Lily asked incredulously, but couldn't hold back a laugh, "You're impossible. _Good press_?" She said again.

"What about you?" James countered, "You and Fabian Prewitt, eh?" He teased, nudging toward her with his elbow.

"Poor reporting," Lily quipped easily, "Fabian and I were never more than friends."

"And you and Diggory!" James cried, good naturedly, "Poor bloke, he-"

"You _know_ why I won't go out with Amos, _James_!" Lily spat suddenly, stopping and throwing her arms up in frustration.

James, spooked by her sudden outburst, stopped and looked towards her, his expression a bit shellshocked, "Sorry, Evans, I didn't mean anything by it."

"You never mean anything by it, James" Lily said tiredly, "But that doesn't mean it doesn't affect people."

"Sorry," James said, finding something very interesting on his shoes.

"It's okay," Lily said, slumping down on the wall next to a portrait, "I know you were just having a laugh."

James slumped down next to her, their shoulders touching. Normally she would have scooted over, but she was too mentally exhausted to even notice. They sat there for a few moments, in uncomfortable silence.

"It's just," Lily finally spoke up, "With Amos, I mean," She clarified, continuing at James' nod, "I don't want to think about it. Because then I'll think about _why_ I'm not going with him and, then..." She trailed off.

"And then you think about your parents and it hurts," James finished for her.

"Yeah," Lily choked, the tears threatening to come.

There were a few moments of silence, before the cork popped and Lily let everything that she had been holding in from everyone who didn't know the whole story out, her tears finally spilling over, "And then I think about my sister and, Merlin, what I wouldn't give to have never read that damn letter. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad, then. Then I think about the house, how even if it's not sold, I don't want to stay there because it'll just be too hard, especially because I never stay there anymore, but then where _am_ I going to stay, you know?"

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself against the sobs as James wordlessly put his arm around her shoulder and she sunk her head into the crook formed there, still crying.

"You can stay with me," James said quietly, smiling an impish grin.

Lily pulled away a bit, shooting him a withering glance, but couldn't resist an exasperated smile. James smiled genuinely back, but it only caused Lily's to fade, "And then _you_!" She cried suddenly, again sad, "You make me _smile_ and I don't _want_ to smile! I shouldn't be bloody _smiling_ or _laughing_ right now!" But she couldn't bring herself to pull away as James pulled her back into his embrace.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Lily quietly sobbing into James' robes as he held her.

"Yes, you should," James said quietly, after her crying had quited a bit.

There was a hesitant inhalation of breath, followed by a short pause, "What?" Lily's muffled voice came out.

"You _should_ be smiling and laughing right now," James said, pulling away from Lily, "And crying and breaking down, too," He added, smiling sadly.

Lily didn't say anything, just leaned back from him, not sure what to say.

"Lily," James said with such solemnity that she had to look, "Merlin, Lily, I'd love to be a selfish git and keep this side of you all to myself," He said it so sincerely, Lily blushed a bit, invisible in the dark of the hallway, "But I can't. It's not doing you any good. You've got to be able to talk to somebody besides me about it."

James sighed, rolling away from her on the wall and looking helplessly up at the ceiling. In Lily's silence, he continued, "Because I know I'm not exactly your first choice to have this conversation with."

"You weren't," Lily agreed quietly, as James' shoulders dropped, "But you are now."

James smiled sadly, "Yeah? Isn't that thrilling to be winning a competition of one."

"James," Lily said desperately, "Who else am I supposed to talk to? Nobody else is going to let me."

James let out a humorless laugh, "Lily, everyone is going to let you. I'm the only one who is going to _make _you."

"Yeah, but," Lily said immediately, ready to rebuke, but the words died on her lips as she internalized his words, "Yeah, but," She said again, "That makes the difference."

James' smile was bright in the darkness.

Things change.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: Woah. Kind of an intense chapter there. For me, anyway, hopefully for you. In other news, time has returned to normal in this story. Even though I experimented with writing it backwards, ala the movie Memento. ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**The Third Marauder: Thanks so much for the review. I'm really glad you are enjoying this story and hope this addition lives up to your expectations.**

**Yvonne Park: Hmm. I wonder what they did on previous Apirl Fool's too, now! Maybe I can work that into an upcoming chapter. Thanks for the idea! Also, the review!**

**KaceyO: I'm glad you enjoyed the prank and have been keeping up with it! Thanks for the reviews!**

**M'rika: Thanks for the review and, yes, the idea was kind of based on the mini-dragons. That's probably the best visual reference for them. And I'm glad you picked up on the parallels between placing the chapters the way I did and the Marauders actions in last chapter!**

**Leilabee: More for your pleasure! Thanks for the review! Glad you like it!**

**mebmarker24: Hahaha, I couldn't possibly think of input into my story as a nuisance. I know you'll have noticed that I didn't really explain your questions and, as promised, I'll address them in this space.**

**Pets - Yes, they disappeared. In chapter 9, casting a spell on it caused the thing to disappear. Really, Amos only suffered from the bad luck of having it go at his wand hand. The Slytherins weren't having their hands swallowed so much as bitten, but nothing too dangerous.**

**Lily/James - I knew this was going to come up, and I thought about adding a bit at the end of chapter 9 regarding it. Lily and James had the lucky benefit of their argument coming after the 24 hours of the prank were up. I wanted for Remus to add a line addressing this, but realized that after Lily tells James that he deserves a terrible thing to happen to him, the scene is just over.**

**Chapter 10 - I got a little self-indulgent with that chapter, as it was more a chapter about WHY I chose to write the chapters in that order than a chapter about WHAT happened, which is what all that kind of introduction was about.**

**Wow. That was a review reply and a half. But it's great, I'm glad to have readers so involved, it makes **_**me**_** more involved! Thanks so much!**


	12. Three Is A Pattern

It reminded Lily tragically of a very bad joke James used to tell.

So, Joseph goes into the town. He goes into a bar, hoping to get a drink and the man at the bar says, "Get out of here, you hippogriff!" Joseph, surprised and kind of stunned, walked out without saying a word, completely flabbergasted why someone would treat him in such a way and why they would choose to call him a hippogriff, of all things.

So, he goes down to the store to pick up some food, since he can't get any at the bar, obviously. But, as soon as he walks in the store clerk takes one look at him and says, "We don't need any hippogriffs in here, get out!" Confused now, Joseph heads out of the store and he wonders to himself, "Do I really look like a hippogriff? But, I think I would know if I was a hippogriff!"

Finally, he starts to head home. He crosses over the bridge that spans the river that runs through the middle of the town. As he passes, he goes by a carriage and the horses get spooked and the carriage driver shakes his fist as he hells at him, "Damn hippogriff! What do you think you're doing? Get out of here!"

Finally he gets to his door, happy to get back to his wife. She comes to the door and he looks at her in shock to discover she's a bloody hippogriff!

No one ever got what was supposed to be funny about the joke. James would just shrug, laughing to himself, and would always finish it up with a brief summation: "If one person calls you a hippogriff, ignore them, if two do, start to wonder. If three do, well, check your kids for talons, yeah?"

One is an anomaly, two is a curiosity, three is a pattern.

* * * * * * * *

Lily wished she could take James' advice. She wished she could open to just anybody. But there was a difficulty to emotional honesty that was unexpected and, because of that, she couldn't prepare for it. Every time she thought she had worked up the courage to admit to Michelle, she would take a deep inhalation and realize she had absolutely no idea where to begin.

The letter? Michelle knew about the letter and, really, Lily didn't want to be bothered with it re-opening that wound.

Her sister? Michelle knew, too, of Petunia, but didn't know about the relationship she and Lily had. She knew they didn't write, she must have assumed the sisters therefor didn't get along too well, but sometimes siblings didn't. But how could Lily start in? With Severus? With her and Petunia being happy before she was a witch? And she didn't want to admit about reading the letter.

Did she start with her living situation (or lack thereof)? It would seem too much like pleading. Or a sorry, heavy handed attempt to ask Michelle if Lily could stay with her over summer vacation. And that would require talking about the house, and Petunia.

It would have been easiest to start with James. Explain that he had badgered it out of her with his careless, but careful insistence. But she didn't want to start with James, didn't want to admit to anyone how much they had been speaking. That was a story in and of itself, one that would loop back through all the hard parts and she didn't think she could handle that.

She spent a Saturday evening following her breakdown with Potter - she inwardly cringed at the whole ordeal, embarrassed - trying desperately to force herself out of her bed, go over to Michelle's and just say _something_. Something that told her friend that she wasn't getting so far away from them, as Michelle had put it. But, instead, she lay there, unable to sleep, thinking incessantly about how to bloody _start_.

She tossed the covers off, determined to head towards her friend's drapes, only to give up mid-step, and head downstairs to the Common Room.

She wasn't entirely surprised to see James sleeping there.

She didn't want to wake him, but even the soft noises she made as she positioned herself on an adjacent loveseat woke him from his tempestuous slumber. He made an amusing noise in his groggy awakening, squinting at Lily strangely, unable to make her out without his glasses.

He didn't bother reaching for them, not entirely sure if he should care who was there or not. He could tell that it was a girl and, aside from one of the Marauders finding out he was spending his nights down here, he could probably broker a deal with some random girl for her not to say anything.

"Hey, James," Lily said.

His brokering came to an abrupt halt as he recognized the voice, "Go to bed," He said sleepily.

Lily laughed slightly at the very boyish reaction, "No, you wake up."

"Five more minutes," James mumbled, turning his head into his pillow.

"Wrong redhead," Lily quipped, "I'm not your mom."

This caused James to shake a bit of sleep from his head and look at Lily, "How'd you know my mom's a redhead?"

"James, I've seen her pick you up at the end of the past five school years," Lily explained patiently.

"Oh," James said, "Damn."

"Damn?" Lily questioned.

James yawned as he spoke, Lily barely able to understand him as he said, "I was hoping you were stalking me," He smacked his lips obnoxiously as he snuggled into his blankets again, "That'd be great."

"James," She groaned impatiently, she was just about to add a request for him to talk to her when she realized she had absolutely nothing in the way of conversation. She stopped herself, wondering idly why she wanted to talk to James in the first place.

It was a bit of comfort, she realized. Even if it was unfamiliar. Amos and Michelle and Mary and everybody else trying to comfort her were unfamiliar, too, but a painful sort of unfamiliarity. It was tiptoeing and carefulness and it reminded her every single time that her parents were gone. It was cold. But James unfamiliarity was new, and the comfort he had offered her was, paradoxically, familiar. It was warm.

Their history was strange. Though being in the same year, in the same house, for nearly six whole years, Lily realized that it wasn't until these past few months that she had any idea of who James was. His crush on her fifth year was inexplicable, to her, given that they hardly ever talked prior to that. Her primary interactions with him over that time had been having to watch him consistently make fun of and harm one of her best friends.

It was recontextualized now, in some of the things she had seen James - and Severus - do, and their reasons for doing them.

"James," She said urgently, still having nothing to say but wanting to talk.

"What?" James groaned irritably. Lily grinned to herself at the irony; for once, she was annoying him.

"Why do you sleep down here?" Lily asked, unsure why she had chosen to ask that particular question.

"'Cause I'm tired," James moaned, beginning to become more coherent.

"That's _not_ an answer," Lily said seriously.

Rubbing his eyes blearily, James sat up a bit from his couch, finally reaching for his glasses and tiredly running a hand through his hair.

With the glasses on his face, Lily now in focus, James sighed, "Lily, I'm very tired."

"It's after three, anyway," Lily said dismissively, "You'd have been up soon, regardless. You always get up from this couch at four."

"The evidence is really adding up that you're stalking me," James smirked.

"Oh, shut up," Lily said, "I _notice_ things, James," She was struggling for conversation, it was apparent to her, but she was sure that James' tired mind didn't notice.

"Mm," Was all James replied in acknowledgement, he rubbed his head, a grimace coming to his features.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked.

"Rough day," James said, quietly, as if just remembering. It was possible he might have been.

"Yeah?" Lily prompted.

"You didn't hear?" James asked, suddenly incredulous.

"Hear what?" Lily was suddenly confused.

James sat up in earnest, looking at Lily with an expression of shock, "You didn't _hear_?"

"Hear _what_, James?" Lily asked again, annoyed.

James stared back at her, his mouth moving slightly, as if struggling at the words.

"Hestia Jones got a black envelope tonight," James said somberly.

"No," Lily gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

"And only you and I know what that means," James said.

Somehow this sentence made Lily feel incredibly guilty. Though it might have been inaccurate, as Michelle was sure to figure it out, it still stung. She could have changed it, somehow. If she would have came forward, there would have already been a support network in place for Hestia. A support network for any students having to see that damn envelope flutter towards them.

"I'm sorry," Lily said quietly.

"What for?" James asked, genuinely bewildered.

Lily hesitated for a moment, "I don't know," She mumbled, "Just feel like," Her words were cut short, as she was unsure what exactly to say, "Maybe if I had told someone..." She couldn't find any more words.

James glanced at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, "You're crazy," he concluded.

Lily looked at him uncomprehendingly.

James continued, "Nothing you could have done would have changed the fact that someone in Hestia's family is dead."

"Maybe it would have been easier-" Lily began.

James snorted, "What would have been easier, Lily?" James asked mockingly, "The part where her family is dead, or the part where she finds out her family is dead fifteen seconds sooner?"

"Why are you being such a bloody _git_?" Lily demanded.

James exhaled loudly, not saying anything for a few moments before finally lowly saying, "Sorry."

Lily didn't reply, still slightly put out.

James sighed again, "It feels like it doesn't matter," he admitted.

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, the confession spurring her interest.

"What we've been doing," James said, Lily knowing he was referring to the Marauders, "What does it matter when it can just be bloody taken away?"

Lily didn't have an answer for that.

In the silence that followed, they both uncomfortably drifted off to sleep.

If one person calls you a hippogriff, ignore them.

If two do, start to wonder.

* * * * * * * *

There were no answers that following morning.

The Marauders sat at the breakfast table, sullen and throwing wistful glances at Hestia Jones. It seemed like ages ago that the amusing, if misguided rumor, had bounced around Hogwart's that her and James had a fling over the winter holidays. Neither minded. Neither would have minded actually having a fling, really, if James wasn't obviously hung up on Lily Evans and Hestia was the kind of girl to go around having winter flings. It flattered both of them, so they let the rumor fester, but without any action to fuel it, it quickly died down.

No one would be spreading any romantic rumors about Hestia for at least a little while.

She sat at the Ravenclaw table, being comforted by her friends. Though she, like Lily, had not really told anyone the whole story. They had seen the envelope, seen the distress on their friend's face, been there for her. But how does someone go about explaining something like that?

This time, there wasn't time between envelopes for the Marauders to do anything.

Another one came that morning.

James was the first one to notice, but he didn't say anything. He was convinced he was hallucinating. He didn't want to believe that another one was already coming. It seemed to spin like a helicopter's propeller as it fell from the owl's taverns. With a sick, morbid curiosity, the student body watched it tumble towards the Hufflepuff table.

It settled in front of Emmeline Vance.

She stared at it for a few moments, unable to comprehend that it was sitting in front of her. She looked at it, as if expecting it to move a few seats down at any moment, until a friend shook her arm and pointed out something on the envelope itself, presumably Emmeline's name.

She looked at it for a moment, noticing whatever her friend was pointing out to her, but shaking her head. Obviously, she might be saying, obviously it's some mistake. She tried to, smiling politely, move it down to the person next to her, who gave her a wary glance, and didn't touch the envelope. After a few moments of an awkward staredown, Emmeline rolled her eyes, and lightly picked up the envelope, opening it up. As if its contents weren't going to be anything more than a card from her grandmother.

The letter spilled out unceremoniously, Emmeline's inexpert fingers dropping it before she could remove it from the envelope. She smiled at those around her, rolling her eyes at her own clumsiness, before picking up the letter and reading it.

The light disappeared from her face.

The actual expression that crossed her face, disbelieving, pained, tears welling in her eyes, anger bubbling up in her chest, was so brief you could have missed it, no longer than the span of a blink. As soon as it came, it went, and Emmeline's now fragile smile played again on her lips as she folded the letter back up and put it back in the envelope.

But, as if some strange curse had been put on her, it seemed that her face no longer could reflect or absorb light - there was just a strange absence, her skin gone cold.

She got up, still smiling her shaky smile, politely excusing herself from her meal, and walked very quickly out of the Great Hall. Her friends, knowing but really knowing what had happened, looked back and forth between each other, talking quietly, wondering what to do.

It reminded Lily tragically of a very bad joke James used to tell.

If one person calls you a hippogriff, ignore them.

If two do, start to wonder.

If three do, well...

One black envelope was an anomaly. One could be written off, especially with the furtive details, the half-intelligent rumors that floated around regarding Lily's letter. And the fact that Lily herself refused to speak on the topic.

Two black envelopes was cause for concern, of course. But, then, some people were struck by lightning twice, right? It was concerning, but, while there were whispers in every corner of the school about things like this happening, it wasn't real enough.

But three black envelopes.

Three is a pattern.

Lily Evans got up out of her seat, walked over to the Ravenclaw table for a moment, spoke softly with Hestia Jones for a moment, then both got up and exited the Great Hall.

What Lily said was, "I know," and "She needs us."

* * * * * * * *

Emmeline went where every female prefect ever went when they wanted to alone at Hogwart's, but didn't want to bother going to their dorm. She went to the prefect's lavatory. Few male prefects actually used the facility, though the Marauders had once convinced Remus to let them in to see what all the fuss was about. They left thoroughly unimpressed. It seemed to the students who knew that its almost exclusive purpose was for a girl in need to go have a quick cry.

Lily wished she had been smart enough to thank of that in her moment of grief.

The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor girls stepped cautiously into the room. Emmeline had a bath drawn, but was only sitting on the edge of the reservoir, fully clothed, idly running her fingers through the water where her tears were making ripples.

The girls sat down on either side of Emmeline, looking at her, waiting for her to make eye contact with one of them.

Once it became apparent that she wouldn't, Hestia spoke, "Who was it?" She asked simply.

Emmeline was silent for a few moments before she finally spoke, "My older brother."

Silence met the confession. Emmeline continued to toy with the ripples in the water. As she popped a particularly big soap bubble she muttered, almost to herself, "I'm so angry."

"At who?" Lily said, almost immediately wanting to cover her mouth. James seemed to be rubbing off on her.

In the silence that followed, Lily wished even harder she could retract the question before Emmeline finally said, "Myself."

"Why?" Hestia asked.

Finally Emmeline picked up her eyes, looking in turn at both of them, the tears again came to her face as she hung her head and tried to spit out her words, "The last time I talked to him, he was so excited to go on this trip to the north countryside, yeah?"

Both Hestia and Lily nodded. Emmeline continued, "And I wanted to tell him not to, because I heard these rumors that You-Know-Who was up in that region, or Death Eaters, or something..." She stuttered a bit, the shock coming through, "Something just _bad_. But I didn't _say_ anything, because he was so bloody excited..." The tears cut her off.

"What would you have done, Em?" Hestia asked, somehow both firmly and gently; soft, but leaving no room for argument, "Made him not go?"

"Maybe!" Emmeline cried.

"It never would have worked," Hestia said with finality.

As Emmeline's tears subsided, she looked towards Hestia, "Who was it for you?" She asked.

Hestia smiled sadly down at the Hufflepuff, "My dad," She said simply, "He was an Auror, looking into some of the disappearances. Apparently it happened a week ago, but he was working undercover, so no one found out until yesterday."

There was a sad acceptance to her words that caused tears to come to Lily's eyes. She looked away suddenly, trying to hide her tears. Both girls looked at her, the only one of them not to answer the question.

"Lily?" Hestia asked.

Lily almost hated her calm manner. She supposed it was a trait of being a Ravenclaw, that even tempered, level headed demeanor. It was such a stark contrast to the bubbling emotions of the Gryffindors she knew, of the Gryffindor she was. Maybe that's why it seemed important to her to hold things in. Why it _had_ seemed important to hold things in.

Three is a pattern.

"Both my parents," Lily said quietly, "In the Muggle attack last month."

"Oh, Lily," Emmeline said, "I hadn't realized-"

Lily cut her off, "No one had, I didn't tell anyone. It's okay. Thank you."

"_Nobody_ knew?" Hestia asked, surprised, "I haven't told anyone yet, but, a _month_ of that? I couldn't imagine."

"Michelle knew," Lily said, avoiding saying that James knew, but unsure exactly why.

"Thank goodness for that," Hestia said.

There was a lull in the conversation, each of them sharing the pain of the others.

Finally, Emmeline said, mostly to herself, "It doesn't even seem real."

"No," Hestia agreed, "It doesn't. I still-" Out of nowhere, her voice cracked, the calm demeanor failing, "I thought about end of term this morning, and I can't picture not getting picked up by him."

Tears were in Emmeline's eyes as well as she nodded, understanding the sentiment and sure that there were going to be days that she had to stop herself halfway to the Owlery and tell herself that her brother couldn't receive her letters.

"How are you doing it, Lily?" Hestia asked helplessly.

"Good question," Was Lily's only response. She hesitated a moment, drawing in a shaky breath that served as enough indication for the other two girls that she was going to speak, "I haven't told anyone this," She lied, still unsure of why, "But there's more to it than just them dying."

"What do you mean?" Emmeline asked.

"Merlin," Lily groaned, "It sounds so childish."

"We're three nearly adult girls crying in a private bathroom," Hestia said gently, a sad grin tugging at her lips, "I think childish is okay."

Lily smiled at the Ravenclaw girl gratefully, "I just," She began, unsure of where to take that sentence, "I don't have a place to live anymore," The tears came suddenly, unexpectedly, and nearly drowned her words, which were suddenly coming of no accord "And I have this sister, but she won't have a thing to do with me and she's living with her boyfriend who is just awful and I keep thinking, 'Where am I going to go?"

She took a deep breath, looking through blurry eyes towards the other girls, continuing on in a bit calmer of a voice, but the tears still coming, "When Severus and I were friends, we found a letter from Dumbledore in her room," She mockingly smiled at her past self, "And Severus, he convinced me to read it and she found out and it's just never been the same between me and her since."

She hung her head bitterly. She was still ashamed of her actions that day, though it was years ago and innocently intended. She blamed herself. Always herself, not Severus' almost vicious exuberance. What would James have said to her in this instance, she wondered. Probably something like, 'The first sign of trouble.' The thought made her suddenly giggle through the tears.

The incongruous sound caused both of the other girls to look at her strangely. The smile fell from her lips, gravity pushing into a frown.

"It doesn't seem right to smile or laugh at all," Lily admitted.

"Yeah," Emmeline said, "It really doesn't."

"But, it will," Hestia said, the sureness of the statement not matching the haggard quality of her tear-stained voice, "We just have to stick together."

Lily wouldn't have been able to do it alone. Being the only one in Hogwart's for this to happen to felt uncomfortable and, by hiding it, it made it seem somehow easier, even if it actually was more difficult to get through her days. Even if it had been her and Hestia, Lily wasn't sure that she could have banded together with a single girl that she barely knew from a different house to try and keep each other both up after having their family member so brutally taken from them. But, with Emmeline also going through what they were going through as well, all of them felt as though they could overcome it.

One is an anomaly.

Two is merely a curiosity.

But three.

Three is a pattern.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: Yay! From the darkness to the light and all that jazz. ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**Yvonne Park: Very little James in this chapter, so I apologize in advance. This one was more about Lily's journey. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for the review!**

**DanceDiva: I can see what you're saying about the intros. Like I said in the previous author's note, I think the backwards chapters may have gotten a bit self-indulgent. I'm glad you're continuing with this story! Thanks for reviewing!**

**KaceyO: Thanks so much for the review! This chapter started out heartbreaking again for Lily, but turned positive at the end. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**The Third Marauder: You're too kind! Too kind! As far as parenthetical phrase, I intended it to include the last name, but thank you for pointing out anything you believe may be a flaw! I really do appreciate it. You guys being involved makes me be involved, thank you. And thanks for enjoying this story so much and continuing to review!**

**majorGIT: Lily/James bonding is great, I agree. I'm blushing from your compliments on my writing style and thanks so much for my shout out in the Author's Note of your story ("What We Knew Was Very Little At All", for anyone interested. Check it out!) I really appreciated it. And it made me feel like less of a jerk for not reviewing stuff.**


	13. Scribbles

Sometimes, James liked to scribble.

Not in the sense of placing random marks on a piece of parchment (that was more Sirius' thing) or creating random doodles (Lily). When James didn't want to take notes, and when his mind was unable to engage with the lecturing of the professors and he just didn't want his mind to be thinking of anything, he would scribble.

Maybe sketch is a more accurate word.

Actually, all in all, James wasn't a bad artist at all. He could render quick sketches of his classrooms in stunning detail. He had an angular drawing style that people would never mistake for being overly realistic, but he managed to bring something out about the nature of a room in his sketches. The potions classroom, in the dungeons, had a faint menace to it, except around Slughorn, where somehow the mood changed to naive. The Gryffindor Common Room burst with energy and quick, forceful mark, save for the fire whose lines seemed as endless as the burning fire itself.

They were a new way of looking at your own surroundings.

They were usually burned by the end of class.

But the Marauders knew about them and, occasionally, would sneak glances at them, silently admiring James' skillful artwork. He had confessed to them fourth year that he liked to draw, even if he didn't necessarily like showing off his drawings. There was something about them, though he knew they were good, he just didn't want to show off to others. Maybe that was the first sign that he wouldn't always be the disarmingly charming git he tended to be at fourteen.

He didn't like drawing people so much. Not as subjects, at least. If they were a part of the natural ambiance of the room - you couldn't really have the dungeons without Slughorn - then they had to be included, like a piece of furniture or a particularly interesting pattern in the brick and mortar of the walls. But, on their own, people were too hard to pin down to sketch accurately themselves. They had too many moods, too many faces, and it while it was okay for a room to be characterized in such simple terms, to try to freeze one of a person's many faces and claim it as them didn't seem right.

He finished up his rough sketch of the Transfiguration classroom (probably the fiftieth or so one he had drawn in his time at school). Just as he was about to set it alight, he stopped and looked at it for a moment.

It was different than his previous renderings of this particular classroom. That wasn't saying much, every sketch was different, regardless of how meticulously someone might try to do an exact copy (and James _had_ tried). But while his drawings of this classroom usually reflected the cold, clinical precision with which McGonnagal taught her class, but this drawing was altogether gruesome. It made his sketches of the dungeon look cheery.

He didn't want to look around again. He knew he would see only crushing helplessness and feeble hope. They seemed to be the two accepted norms of the days following Emmeline's black letter. The crushing helplessness came as a product of the sinister black of the outside world beginning to sneak its tendrils into Hogwart's, a place which seemed so impenetrable before. The feeble hope came from the banding together of the three elder girls. They didn't begin to hang out all the time - in fact, they rarely saw each other outside of class - but, if one was dealing with grief, the other two always found time for her. If another black envelope fell, if another student's hopes fell, there was now a safety net.

The school now knew what had long been suspected about the vaugaries of the black envelope. This was enough to keep that feeble hope alive, but not enough - not nearly enough - to keep the black tendrils of helplessness away.

James didn't know how to feel about being helpless. It wasn't a position he found himself in very often.

What do you do when all of it can just be taken away?

He jabbed his wand forward with an _Incendio_ charm and left a rough scorch mark on the desk.

* * * * * * * *

With the invisibility cloak, James again quietly descended the stairs from the boys' dormitory into the Gryffindor Common Room.

The spells necessary to turn the couch into a comfortable sleeping surface had always been the easy part, given his natural gifts for transfiguration. Of course, it would never be as comfortable as his bed, which had by now become acclimated to and contoured around his body. It was colder, too, without the variety of blankets and sheets that his bed offered, allowing him to get exactly the right temperature without wandwork.

The selective caterwauling charm on the portrait hole was more difficult. One wrong flick and it would be going off _only_ when Gryffindors went through it, as opposed to only _except_ Gryffindors went through it. Too hard of a thrust at the end and it might wake up the whole school, as opposed to just him.

The tripwire charm going up to the boys dormitory was a bit tricky as well, as it was one of his own invention. If someone crossed it without meeting the parameters of the charm, they simply tripped and landed forcefully enough usually to knock them out. It was a sort of back up to the caterwauling charm. The girls dorms were difficult enough to get into that they didn't need extra protection but, if someone had managed to get by James, the boys dorms were the next logical destination.

The hardest part of all of it was creating a shield charm that would stay up while he was sleeping. It still wasn't working perfectly yet, he would often wake up and to find the absence of its magical signature, but it was getting better. It had only failed three times over the past week, after his efforts had redoubled in response to Emmeline's letter.

Lily had asked him what he was doing.

He was standing watch.

James didn't know how to feel about being helpless. It wasn't a position he found himself in very often. The pranks were temporary reliefs, just like how a potion doesn't outlast the pain. This, though, was something worthwhile.

Not everyone wanted to be protected. He got that, but there were times when he just couldn't help himself. It was impossible for him to sit and do nothing, to allow people like Goyle and Nott to have their run at anyone they felt. People like James and Sirius, Lily and Michelle, they could take care of themselves. But, dammit, that didn't mean they should have to.

He wasn't ever going to sit there and let anybody else take the first shot.

That was his bloody job.

He was the last line of defense.

He smiled grimly at the thought arranged the blankets he had conjured around himself.

* * * * * * * *

"James," A kind voice broke his sleep.

He blinked a few times, wondering who was down here again at whatever ungodly hour it happened to be. It was Michelle McDonald, she was looking down at him kindly, a small grin gracing her pretty features. She had a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Did you fall asleep studying?" She asked.

He should have said yes. He knew that. But maybe he was too tired to remember, or maybe he was just sick and tired of not answering the damn question. Either way, he couldn't help it when his traitorous mouth said, "No."

"No?" Michelle asked, "Then what _are_ you doing down here?"

"Sleeping," He quickly quipped, glad to have gathered enough sense to fall back on his traditionally flippant response.

"You're ridiculous," Michelle laughed, sitting back now into the loveseat that Lily often occupied when she caught James on these midnight excursions.

"Comes with the territory," James replied easily, his bleary eyes squinting at Michelle, unable to really see her now that she had sat back. He ran a hand hastily through his hair, continuing, "Don't tell me you're sneaking off to a broom closet at this hour, No A?" He asked, smirking as he brought up the now obvious reference between her and Mary.

"Nothing so scandalous, Potter," She laughed, rolling her eyes, "Left a book down here is all," She pointed over at the other end of the room.

"You're going to have to give me visual aids," James said dryly, "Don't think my mole-y eyesight can determine your book from the table its on at that kind of range."

Michelle laughed again, leaning forward to grab James glasses from the bedside table and hand them to him. He accepted them with a smile, placing them on his face as Michelle leaned back into her (He couldn't stop thinking of it as Lily's) seat.

"Pretty comfortable setup you've got going on there, Potter," Michelle smiled.

"You know me," Was all James could reply with.

"Do I?" Michelle asked coyly, a playful grin spreading.

"What's that supposed to mean?" James, intrigued and surprised at the odd question.

"I know _of_ you," Michelle explained, "But do I know _you_?"

James shrugged, then began to scoot up into a sitting position to better participate in the conversation, "I'm a big fan of 'What you see is what you get,'" He said after adjusting.

"That's a pretty solid policy," Michelle agreed, nodding. She paused for just a moment, before adding, "So what I _see _here," She said, deliberately stressing the word see, "Is someone not telling me why they're sleeping on the couch."

He knew he shouldn't have, but there was a half second of hesitation before James said, "Peter snores."

"Of that," Michelle said seriously, "I have no doubt. Sometimes I think I hear him in the girl's dorms."

James snorted, laughing lightly.

"But that wasn't exactly an answer, now was it?" Michelle pressed.

"Look," James said finally, frustration coloring his voice, too tired to continue to lie, "I'm standing watch, aren't I?"

Michelle didn't ask from what. He was glad of that. But her smile turned sad as she replied, "Ah," And went back up to the girl's dorm. As her presence left the room and the quality of it changed from vibrant to cold, as the mark he would have used to draw it went from bold to careful, he noticed that his shield charm had failed.

He let out a noise of disgust, not bothering to put it back up.

He could deal with taking the first shot.

* * * * * * * *

It wasn't enough, James realized the next day.

It wasn't enough just to defend his house. It wasn't enough, sneaking out at night and putting whatever creative defenses he could think of into protecting his friends from the moles (or snakes) that had infiltrated its walls. It wasn't enough, being there for only a few when so many were in danger.

He was sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Sirius had already tried cajoling him with the idea for another prank. It was a good one. James remember catching bits about a contest, a scoreboard, and some sort of pillow fight, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to give the school another temporary potion for the pain.

Every once in awhile, his dream came back to him. The pseudo-recurring dream that showed him dying to protect someone or something. His nonchalant acceptance of the dream would have unnerved his friends if they knew of it, but he had always been a person that readily accepted whatever life threw at him. The old Muggle saying out lemons and lemonade was something that could have defined James.

It wasn't enough to only be protecting his house from attackers, to only be protecting the school from its unhappiness.

He skipped his first class that day, heading to the seventh floor.

The gargoyle statue that guarded the headmaster's office seemed to eye him as he walked up to it.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," James spoke clearly.

The gargoyle didn't move.

"Liquorice Snaps," James tried, to no avail, before beginning to simply run down the name of sweets. "Acid Pops, Sugar Quills, Licorice Wands, Cockroach Clusters."

There was no movement from the gargoyle.

"Ice Mice, Canary Cream, Pumpkin Pasties, Treacle Tart," James spat again, his patience, usually infinite, beginning to wane a bit, evidenced by his more aggressive tone.

From behind him, a gentile voice spoke, "Fizzing Wizzbees, Mr. Potter."

Dumbledore's calm voice surprised him as he turned quickly to look at the revered Headmaster while the gargoyle statue began to turn.

"May I ask why you needed to see me during your scheduled class time?" Dumbledore asked, not at all phased by James' presence outside of class. James didn't know whether or not to be unnerved by that fact.

"Well," James stopped, glancing back and forth down the hallway.

"My apologies," Dumbledoore said kindly, "Of course, we can take this conversation to my office, if you so desire."

"Yeah," James said, letting the Headmaster go up the stairs first.

Once they had reached the top, Dumbledore opened the great oak door of his office, one that James could have drawn without actually being in front of it, he and it having been acquainted many times over his six years at Hogwart's. Dumbledore strode around to the chair behind his unobtrusive desk and James took a seat in one of the chairs that faced it. He intentionally chose the chair that wasn't the one he often sat in when he was facing punishment.

"So, James, what would you like to speak with me about?" Dumbledore asked simply.

"It's not stopping," James said, unsure why those particular words slipped from his mouth.

"What, exactly, isn't stopping, James?" Dumbledore prompted, leaning forward a bit in interest.

"The-" James caught himself. He didn't know exactly how to answer the question. The pain? The black envelopes? He started over, "Voldemort," Jame said, quietly, knowing the name was meant only for back alleys and whispered asides, "He's not stopping."

Dumbledore sighed heavily, looking at the young man in front of him seriously, "No, James, he isn't stopping."

James felt an unfamiliar stinging behind his eyes and took a large inhalation of breath through his nose to try to prevent the sudden appearance of the tears he didn't want to fall, "I tried," James began, laughing pathetically to himself "I just wanted people to forget for a little while. We all tried to get it to go away, but it's just _not stopping_." With the final two words ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and angry.

The Headmaster was silent for a moment, his gaze on the 16-year old considering, "It isn't," Dumbledore agreed.

James silence was long and heavy, his gaze towards the floor. After a moment's pause, he collected his breath and looked the Headmaster straight in the eye, something he had neglected to do since first seeing him, "I need to so something," James said seriously.

Dumbledore smiled, "I was under the impression that you were already doing something," He said, not unkind.

James blinked, "How do you-?" He shook his head, "Why is it that you know everything?" James asked, a smile finding its natural home on his features.

"I wouldn't say I know everything, Mr. Potter, for example I have no idea how it is that you and your friends often find your way to the kitchens and back well past curfew," The elder man quipped, a genuine smile gracing his delicate features.

"Good thing," James laughed, "That one is a trade secret. Would hate for the staff to know about that one."

In reply, Dumbledore only smiled. Slowly, James laughing smile fell off his face and he repeated, "I need to _do_ something, sir," James only called Dumbledore "sir."

"James-" Dumbledore started, sighing as he did so.

"I know," James interrupted, "I know I'm only sixteen, but," He struggled for the right words, "But we're the ones that'll be most prepared," James concluded forcefully, "Our parents? They're only just getting used to the idea of a dark wizard being on the loose again, so soon after Grindelwald. They don't know how to deal with it. The generation that _did_ deal with him? Too old to matter. We're the only ones that can fight. That _want_ to fight."

Dumbledore again sighed heavily, his glasses drooping down his nose a bit. He used a loose hand to push his glasses back up his face as he looked at James, his expression again serious, but this time more grave.

"James, I want you to understand," Dumbledore began, and immediately James' face fell, knowing that the words meant nothing he wanted to hear, "I am glad for your courage, you truly are a Gryffindor. But you know not what you ask of me. I am not willing to throw you to the hounds, James. I don't want to do that to any of you."

James, frustrated, let loose a noise of disagreement, again running a hand through his hair. He cast his gaze aside, looking around the room with which he was so informally acquainted. He didn't want to make eye contact with the Headmaster, knowing that Dumbledore's expression would cause him to give in and forget the entire converastion.

Still looking away, James claimed defiantly, "I'll fight anyway," He said forcefully, "Whether or not you're doing anything, I'll fight him."

"I know you will, James," Dumbledore said quietly.

For a few seconds, the pair was quiet.

"I don't have a choice, do I, James?" Dumbledore asked forlornly, "I do not want you in danger, so I reject from putting you in harm's way. But, in rejecting you, you say you will willingly thrust yourself into that very harm I try to protect you from!" The Headmaster's tone, though not unpleasant, was tired.

"I have to have some sort of bargaining chip, yeah?" James said, a small, sly smile making its way onto his face.

Dumbledore laughed quietly, "Of course, Mr. Potter. I should have known you not to go into negotiations without something with which to influence your decision. You did, after all, convince Professor Slughorn not to give you detention after a particularly ungracious Potions incident with an abundance of crystallized pineapple, did you not?"

"That's yet to be proven, sir," James said diplomatically, a grin unable to keep itself away.

Again the Headmaster laughed, taking revelry in the few moments of frivolity he knew he had left with the young Gryffindor.

James liked to sketch.

He took great pride in noticing the details in rooms and, though he often despised trying to draw people, trying to pin people down to a single moment in time, there were times when he handed to include a person in the room to truly capture its essence. McGonnagal's office wasn't the same room when it didn't have her in it, it didn't carry the calculated warmth with which she imbued the room.

When Dumbledore looked at him, the familiar, mischievous twinkle that was often present in his eyes changed suddenly into something that would color the very halls of Hogwart's whenever James was tempted to doodle them over the course of the last bit of sixth year that he had left.

It was wild, rampant hope.

"James," Dumbledore said, after reigning in his last bit of laughter, "There is an organization I've started called the Order of the Phoenix."

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: Dear God, easily the chapter I've had the most difficulty writing. I really feel bad about the delay. To make some excuses, this is iteration number three of this chapter. I actually wrote two other complete versions of this chapter that were entirely too dramatic before I ended up writing this one. Which I don't like too terribly much, either, but there you go. I felt like we needed to address James' feelings over the deaths before we could move on to the great part about Lily and James truly coming together. Which should be coming soon! Yay! ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**Yvonne Park: I'm glad you found the girls' plight realistic. I've been on both sides of the coin, trying to help people deal with loss and having to deal with my own, so I've tried to convey both what I've seen and what I've felt. Thanks for the review!**

**: Now you've made me go and feel bad about taking so long to update! :) This one is a little less Prince Charming for James (then again, he really has no one to be charming for in this chapter), but hopefully it's still enjoyable. Thanks very much for the compliments, and the review.**

**The Third Marauder: I'm under the impression that James would cover his tracks from the boy's dorm, yeah? Draw his curtains, etcetera. Your review actually gave me the idea for this chapter (which is good because I really had absolutely none for awhile!), so thank you for that, your compliments, and your review.**

**KaceyO: Aww! No crying, please! Happy! I'm flattered that the story affected you so and glad you enjoyed the girls' bonding. Thanks for the review!**

**.Syrup: Hey, nothing wrong with inflating my ego with some more compliments! :) I agree that my writing from chapter to chapter is very self-contained, but I'm very happy that you think so highly of it! Thanks for the review!**

**Missy396: I tried! I really did, it was just very hard to figure out James at this point in time! Thanks for the review!**

**Randomisation: The characterization of Lily and James was something I strove really hard to make real, so I'm glad you noticed! Thanks for the review!**

**mebmarker24: No worries about not reviewing the prior chapter! You made up for it by turning me onto a Very Potter Musical (OMGHOWDIDINOTKNOWABOUTTHISBEFORE). I'm glad you truly enjoyed that chapter. Thanks for continuing to review!**

**Julie AV: Grief can be really tricky, so I'm happy you think that I've handled it well! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and thanks for the review!**

**DanceDiva: I went again with trying to deal with the darkness in this chapter, but now from James' point of view. I hope you think I handled it as well as the girls' side. Thanks for the review!**

**NeverQuitDreaming: Just as I was about to post this chapter I noticed you put up a new review! Thanks for enjoying the story and thank you for reviewing!**


	14. Peripheral Vision

It is a curious phenomenon, that when a person seems to believe they have taken care of their issues, when they take action and do something to take care of the problems plaguing their life, more and more problems seem to crop up around them, in their peripheral. While they feel as though they've taken care of things, everything around them goes, well, to shit.

Take the case of Sirius Black. When he was finally fed up with the bigotry of his family, he first relocated temporarily to his uncle Alphard's house, the one member of the family who didn't seem to support the silent support of Voldemort out of anyone with the Black name. Finally, he went to the Potter's. While he was welcomed with open arms, it obviously strained James' parents physically, attempting to keep up with two sixteen year-olds. His family, which was once limited to disdainful sniffs now, without Sirius to direct their frustration tofwards, seemed to take it upon themselves to heap upon Regulus the responsibilities of being a true Black. And, while living with James was fun most of the time, it was obvious to both of them that should never try living together after school, their living habits simply clashed.

Consider also the case of Lily Evans. Her first few years at Hogwart's were transitional. For a muggle-born student, it is always much harder to move from the comparatively humdrum existence of that world to the Wizarding world, where small explosions and seeing animals turn into teacups were common occurrences. It wasn't until the beginning of fifth year that Lily began to feel truly comfortable in her skin as a witch. Towards the end of that year, however, Voldemort's grip began to tighten, making Hogwart's itself less inviting to those of her ilk, James Potter became a perplexing nuisance, and one of her best friends turned his back on her.

Look at Remus Lupin, who was perfectly alright, thank you very much, with the situation he had upon entering Hogwart's. He grew up thinking that he would never be able to enter the castle, never be able to learn properly about magic so, when Dumbledore came and told his family of his plans, his elaborate, wonderful plans involving a malevolent tree and a haunted house story, Remus almost didn't believe it. But they were true and, as he screamed through that first night, he couldn't help but feel glad that at least everything was taken care of. So, of course, the three people who he had managed, unwillingly, to make friends with, would figure it out. Of course, two of them had to be arrogant, kind-hearted risk-takers. Of course they had to be the two boys in all of Hogwart's who could not only become Animagi, but hide it from everyone, and manage to teach it to a third boy whose skills were much less than their own. Of course, they had to throw him and themselves into danger at every available opportunity.

Depressingly enough, this doesn't mean that, when things are going poorly for you personally, that your peripheral is clear. In fact, it is just as likely to be filled with the same sort of cumbersome issues. When your forward view is clear, of course, it seems much easier for the smaller issues to be magnified. But, when they hit you at the same time as your major issues, they can still needle their way into your heart just the same.

Things _can_ come all crashing down at once.

Take the case of Sirius Black, who found his brother was planning on joining the Death Eaters, received notice of his expulsion from the family tree and almost manage to kill Severus Snape and turn one of his best friends into a murder on the very same day.

Look at Remus Lupin, who his bite from Fenrir Greyback on the same day he purchased his first schoolbook. It was years away from Hogwart's, of course, but he knew that he would need _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_. He wanted to study. After his bite, he threw the book into the fire.

Consider also the case of Lily Evan. Her parents had passed away over a month ago, the funeral devastating. Her sister still refused to communicate with her. And, Merlin, it was just so very, very petty, but why had James told Michelle McDonald what he was doing in the Gryffindor Common Room at night and not her?

Things can all crashing down at once.

Or they can come when the path is clear and fog up the peripheral. Just when it seems as though things are okay, problems can sneak up from behind like a snake or a ghost. They can be an invisible tripwire, like a spell a Gryffindor once invented, causing a fall hard enough to knock you out.

Take the case of James Potter.

* * * * * * * *

The rest of the Marauders cornered James in a hallway after classes had ended, forcing him into the Transfiguration classroom gently. Something in their demeanor, however, made James more than nervous. He looked perplexedly at each of his friends, none of them save Sirius daring to meet his eyes, and the eldest Black's eyes were almost blazing.

"Sit down, James," Sirius said quietly, but forcefully, the nature of his tone compelling James to do so.

As he sat down and his friends formed a standing semi-circle around his seat, he glanced back and forth, trying to discern some sort of information from any of their eyes. Peter was finding something very interesting in the stone patterns of the floor, while Remus looked sullen, inspecting alternately his navel and the far wall. Sirius, however, was looking straight down at James.

"You know," Sirius started off, a mock-smile on his features, "For someone who used to bring up Rule Number 23 at every available opportunity-"

James didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence to know where this conversation was going.

"Padfoot," He interjected.

"_Standing watch_, James?" Sirius spat, changing tactics immediately at James' interruption, "Like we're all ickle firsties? What the bleeding hell are you on about?"

"I know you guys can take care of yourself, Sirius, I just-" James tried to get a word in edgewise, looking at the other Marauders who didn't know whose side to take. Peter seemed as though he was involved in an argument between two parents. Remus, James knew, could probably see both sides of whatever argument was going to take place. James wished he could be that reasonable.

Sirius interrupted again, "And that's not even the point! Rule number twenty-three! 'No secrets, no lies!' We had to find out from Michelle _bloody _Mcdonald!"

"I didn't lie about _anything_!" James implored.

"Well, you certainly weren't telling us anything about this-"

"Because you would have been down there with me, Padfoot!" James exploded, standing up, speaking over Sirius when he tried to open his mouth again. James took a step forward, and Sirius, unconsciously, took a step back. James continued, "And that was kind of the bloody point, wasn't it!? To make sure I was the only one in harm's way!"

"Like we couldn't handle it?" Sirius snapped back, drawing himself up to his full height, attempting to loom over James, but as they were both about equally tall, it was more of a staredown, "Like we don't all run with--" He stopped himself, his eyes shuffling nervously before continuing, "Like we don't all deal with Remus' furry little problem together? Like we don't all have the skill necessary to defend our own bloody dormitory from whatever Slytherin bastard tries to worm his way in?"

"It's not about that, dammit!" James yelled, his arms gesticulating wildly.

"What is it about then, _mate_?!" The word became a curse on Sirius' lips.

For the first time, James spluttered, unsure of how to continue, noise of frustration loudly forcing their way out before he finally burst forth and said, "I have to protect everyone, Padfoot! I _have_, too!"

"What, like we don't want to?!" Sirius flared up, bristling at the implication, "Like we're just laying in bed thinking we'd just scurry away if someone came to attack?!"

James stuttered again, "You shouldn't _have _to-!" and, "I'm just trying to-." He fell silent for a second, but only for a second.

"_I have to do this, okay?!_" James finally burst, his arms coming down forcefully, making a loud noise on the desk as it reverberated around the empty classroom.

Sirius, for the first moment since the argument started, was silent. He looked in shock at his friend's expression, James' face was flushed red and, before Remus could say anything more than "Prongs, wait," James was out of the door, slamming it just as loudly behind him.

* * * * * * * *

_Twenty-two hours earlier_.

"James," Dumbledore said, after reigning in his last bit of laughter, "There is an organization I've started called the Order of the Phoenix."

James leaned in eagerly, the hope that the glint in Dumbledore's eye had was infectious and pulled at the corners of his lips. He smiled without even realizing he wanted to do so.

"I am sure you are aware," Dumbledore continued, "That the Ministry of Magic has not been very proactive in the fight against Voldemort."

"No. They haven't," James agreed, the smile instantly gone, "And the Prophet is basically bilge at this point."

"I did not say it," Dumbledore said, agreeing without actually saying he agreed, "I have, obviously, had experience dealing with dark wizards," For a moment a look like remorse flickered across the Headmaster's features, "I know that this one, in particular, is careful, intelligent and methodical."

James nodded, his features determined.

"James," The Headmaster said, his tone changing to one of curiosity, "Are you afraid of Voldemort?"

"No," James replied immediately.

Dumbledore leaned forward, his spectacles sliding a bit down his nose as he looked at James. In turn, the young Gryffindor steeled his features, attempting to make himself seem impenetrable. He meant it. He was not afraid of Voldemort.

"If you do not fear him," Dumbledore said quietly, "It is only because you do not know enough about him."

James blinked in confusion, "Sir?"

"It is important, James," The headmaster intoned, his voice grave, "That you do not look at Voldemort merely as a troublesome usurper or a bully. He is not brute force and, if you react to him as if he is, if you try to meet force with force..." Dumbledore trailed off for a moment, his eyes looking towards the bookshelves for just a moment, "It would be unwise," He concluded.

Looking uncertainly at his Headmaster, James cocked his head slightly, "Yes?" Was the only reply James could come up with.

"This is not a war for those looking to fight, James," Dumbledore said quietly, "It is not a war, either, for one who is underage. For one who is not yet out of school."

The pieces snapped into place. James' expression went from confusion to hurt to stone in the matter of a few seconds, "I just told you that if you didn't let me fight, that I'd find a way."

Again Dumbledore sighed his tired sigh, the one that communicated precisely the heavy trials that laid upon the mind of someone with as extraordinary a mind as his. In the face of it, James anger had no choice but to deflate.

"I know you will, James, because it is in your nature." Again Dumbledore leaned forward, this time an expression of pleading on his face, "I am only begging you, imploring you, to wait. I have established this Order not to fight, James, but to win the fight. It is a crucial difference."

James nodded, "I understand, sir," He said, leaning back in his own chair. He did understand, but it still hurt. He felt as if he could help, as if he could make a difference and here Dumbledore was, telling him that he was too young, too headstrong, _too_ willing to fight. There was hope in Dumbledore's eyes, hope when he spoke about the Order of the Phoenix. But it was hope that James could not join in on. Not, at least, for another year. A year that seemed too far away to be real.

"James, this will be all I ask of you," Dumbledore said kindly, "A little more than a year of patience."

"Yes, sir," James said, and didn't mean a word.

* * * * * * * *

_Thirty hours later_.

James didn't bother sneaking out of the Gryffindor sixth-year boys dorms that night. He knew that, if he had tried, that his friends would have been waiting. They would have not allowed him to. Or they would have went with them.

James didn't know which of those ideas he dreaded more.

Instead, he never left the Common Room to begin with. It was innocuous at first. He sat at the table, calmly doing his homework, conspicuous only in that whenever the Marauders weren't working together it was conspicuous. Not unheard of, but enough to draw a few glances. The rest of the foursome, for their part, didn't notice until people started to clear off their own messes and head up to their dorms and James continued to make no move to finish his own work and go to bed. Unsure of how to handle their friend, the three retired to bed sometime just prior to midnight.

Lily noticed James' suddenly insistent work, and recognized immediately his plan. She spent some of the evening talking with Alice and Mary then set about her own work. For the first time, she had been able to let some of it linger. It felt liberating almost, to feel that it was okay to think, to _feel_, again. That she had a support system around her and she could turn to anyone to catch her if she fell.

She tried to honestly do her work, but it wasn't possible, with the recurring thought running through her mind. Why? Why, why, why, why, why? Why Michelle? Why not Lily? She had asked, just as James had always done. Just as James had always proffered a shoulder, she attempted to as well. At the time, there was no sting. It was merely James being James, and owing her nothing. But to hear it, not from his mouth, but from Michelle McDonald's hushed whisper? She knew it was small, furtive and petty, but she couldn't help it. It hurt.

It was just her and James in the Common Room now. James sat in front of the ever-crackling fire, his eyes occasionally dancing up to catch the flames. If she really knew anything about him, she knew that he was drawn to them. She knew that.

She didn't bother putting away her papers, but merely left them where they lay and came to sit in what had seemingly become her spot when James and her had these conversations. As she sat down, James lifted his eyes up to meet her. They had dark bags under them, a sign of little to no sleep, or deep stress. She tried to make herself feel sympathetic, but couldn't.

"Why didn't you tell me, James?" She said, and she couldn't keep the edge of vindictive bitterness out of her tone.

"Sorry?" James said, reaching up with one hand to rub his temples.

"James, just tell me," Lily said resignedly. It felt better to filter her pain through frustration and anger.

"Honestly? I didn't even mean to tell Michelle," James laughed, his own tone just as bitter, but with himself.

Lily's intense gaze immediately softened, "Yeah?" She asked.

"I was just too tired with not telling," James continued, still looking down at his Potions essay, "Could have been Snape and I probably would have spilled."

Lily didn't know why, but that sentiment made her feel a bit better. James finally looked up at her, at her soft expression and his own steely gaze faltered for a moment.

"Besides," James continued, "Couldn't tell you. You'd have had a go at me. 'I can protect myself, Potter,' and all that."

Lily smiled just a bit at that and James was glad to see it. At his own returning smile, Lily's eyes suddenly went sad, "It just hurt."

James didn't know what to say to that. He had been in the position before, of course, to hurt a girl's feelings, but he usually took great care, sometimes at his own expense, not to do so. Rule Number Six in the Marauder's Handbook to Life was 'Never make a girl cry.' Of course, Sirius had later written in the margins 'The consequences always outweigh the benefits' and made the rule seem much less sentimental, but it was still there. James remained silent.

"You've wheedled every damn thing out of me, James," Lily said, having grown frustrated at his silence, mistaking it for being unapologetic, "And then you won't even tell me why you sleep on a couch? When I ask you? When I come to you?"

She always knew how to get under his skin. He rolled his eyes, turning away before saying, "Lily, everybody knows now, you've got everyone else to go to about it, you can go back to disapproving of me."

"Did it ever occur to you that I don't _want_ to go back to that, James?" Lily questioned sharply, inhaling quickly at the words that she didn't expect to come out.

James paused for a moment before saying quietly, "I can honestly say that it never did."

Somehow, that statement hurt the most. Of all the hurled insults and snide remarks that the pair had traded over the past two years, nothing stung Lily quite so much as that condemning remark. What hurt most was that, like much of what James said, it was true.

"Well, you're not always right, Potter," Lily spat, spinning out of her seat and stomping up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, leaving her papers spread out at their table.

James had thought that he had figured things out. He believed for a moment, for a fleeting, beautiful moment, that he had worked everything out. He should have recognized the moment for being dangerous. It was like flying during Quidditch with blinders on. If you only saw the goal in front of you, a bludger would always sneak up in your peripheral vision and take you down.

James had let himself see the empty goalposts, allowed himself to zero in on his destination and never saw the bludgers coming his way.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: I feel terrible about the long wait between chapters. I finished up my internship just today and have been going through the now-terrible job hunt process. Wish me luck! Anywho, I debated a lot of different ideas with this chapter, including a time jump just to up tension, but figured I needed to deal with the consequences of James situation here and now. Maybe next chapter for a little flashback action. ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**leprauchan: Hey, it's always a good sign that you're becoming engaged with the story and thinking about what happens next, it means I'm doing my job! Thanks for the review and thanks for continuing to read!**

**priestpotter: I wish I could take credit for the World War II reference but, alas, I cannot. It makes it seem a bit less cool now, doesn't it? :( Thanks for the review and I'm glad you've been enjoying the story!**

**pip: Thank you for the review! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Yvonne Park: Another James-centric chapter. I felt like I needed to do a little more exploring of him. Hope you enjoyed it! I know it's a bit of a fake-out with the OotP, but James can't think he'd be allowed to be running off into danger just like that, right? Thanks for the review!**

**Julie AV: I feel bad now about introducing the Order of the Phoenix like this! I took it in a completely different direction, but I hope you like it anyway! Thanks for the review!**

**KaceyO: Well, I've got to get Lily and James speaking now, don't I? Sigh. Those kids. Thank you for reviewing, I hope you're enjoying the story!**

**Randomisation: I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations! Thanks for reviewing!**

**DanceDiva: Thank you for your kind words. My whole attempt with this story was to give some realness to characters that were never truly fleshed out in the original story, and I hope that I am continuing to do that. Thank you for continuing with the story.**

**Batamut: Aw, you checked out my Kingdom Hearts story? I've always liked that one, too. I hope I showed you another dimension of James here and you enjoyed it! Thanks for the review!**


	15. Rule 57

The Marauder's Handbook to Life had originated merely as a few scraps of parchment with faux-proverbs and fortune cookie philosophies. The very first rule was simply "No Slytherins," a rule that would undergo multiple interpretations and meanings over its time as a rule. Originally it had been simple, no Slytherin could be their friend. Later, it took deeper rooted meaning and, while it amounted to the same thing, it was a rule that seemed to gain importance and nuance as time went on. By contrast, rule number two was "No Girls," which seemed obvious to a group of eleven-year old boys, but as time went on became less and less applicable until its meaning, now, was more or less that no girl could officially be a Marauder.

Every rule, however, no matter how petty or nearly meaningless they may have been at the time they were written, became part of the official Marauder's Handbook to Life. That included Rule #11, "Forks Go On The Right Side Of The Plate" and Rule #30, "Never Drink Peter's Mother's Homemade Pumpkin Juice" (A truly terrible lesson learned. Remus, James and Sirius vomited what they roughly calculated to be 3.4 billion liters over the course of the night. Peter was unaffected).

More to the point, every rule, no matter how petty or nearly meaningless they may have been at the time they were written, was followed. Even Rule #11. Sirius, the only one of the Marauders to have gone through etiquette training, took glee in rapping the knuckles of his compatriots for about half of second year, when he had somehow managed to get the others to agree on the rule, until it was finally ingrained in them.

To say the rules were always followed would be a misnomer. Members slipped up, of course. They were, of course, rules and even if the boys had implemented these rules themselves, they were still the type of kids to, well, break them. But breaking the rules always had consequences. Just as breaking the school rules resulted in detentions, breaking the rules of the Marauder's Handbook to Life resulted in the boys own brand of discipline. Usually a prank perpetrated on the breaker but, if it were a more egregious or serious offense, it would lead to a group confrontation.

Like last night.

The very last rule to ever be added to the Marauder's Handbook to Life was Rule #57.

In fifth year, by leading Snape to Remus on a full moon night, Sirius broke a good, solid handful of the rules in the Marauder's Handbook to Life. It was one of the most trying times for the group and, consequently, one of the most bizarre times for Hogwart's as a whole. Four boys who had been together since practically their first day in school were now at odds and no one was entirely sure what to make of it. Then, one day, it seemed as if suddenly everything had changed and the group was back together.

Rule #57 just appeared one day, written at the end of the handbook in what was obviously James' handwriting. He had, however, neglected to notify anyone that he had written it in there.

It was just one word.

"Forgive."

* * * * * * * *

The three of them woke up early, which was of note in and of itself. The last time Sirius got out of bed prior to eight in the morning was a night following the full moon and he had been so out of sorts that at breakfast he had attempted to bite James' finger when James teased him by poking him in the face.

They weren't entirely surprised not to find James in the dormitories. He had seemed bound and determined not to come up there for the entire night, not because of their argument, the threesome knew, but because heading up to the dorms would have stopped him from staying at the entryway alone, in one way or another, be it that his friends would have stopped him or gone with him.

What was surprising is that they didn't find him in the Gryffindor Common Room either. Light sparks of flame shot up from the fireplace, not all that necessary in the mid-May morning, but enough to remind you that it never went out. James was nowhere to be found and any hint of his presence that evening, from blankets to pillows to left over spellwork, was similarly conspicuous in its absence.

There was one other person down there, however, who seemed to be just as interested in where exactly that stuff was.

"Lily?" Remus asked gently as the three descended the stairs together. Sirius had seemed unwilling to communicate with her and Peter, following behind them, probably would have followed Sirius' lead. Remus, however, had no desire to ignore his friend and patrol partner.

Lily looked up, startled. She hadn't been expecting to see anyone else, been intent on trying to talk things out with James after they had left things in such a painful fashion the night before. Still, though, she didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all these three, that she had been looking for the fourth Marauder.

"Yes?" She asked, politely.

"Lily, it's 6:30 in the morning, what are you doing up?"

He breath hitched for just a moment, and her mind hesitated a split second before she could come up with a reasonable excuse. To almost anyone it wouldn't have been noticeable.

"Evans, don't try to pull something out of you arse, and just tell us the truth," Sirius grumbled flippantly, pouring himself unceremoniously into one of the Common Room chairs, leaning his head back, looking at the ceiling.

Lily forgot that the Marauders told white lies often enough to be able to detect them on anyone. The reply closed her mouth quickly. She stood there for a moment, before shaking her head quickly, as if to knock cobwebs loose, "Nothing," She said, "Nevermind," She added as she turned to head back up to her dorms.

"Lily," Remus said quickly, reaching out for her shoulder.

Lily seemed to sense it and, knowing that the boys weren't ones for letting things lay (If James had taught her anything, it was that), again turned around quickly, this time with a large smile on her face, "How about you guys?" She asked, "What are you guys doing down here?"

She took satisfaction in the few uncomfortable moments that succeeded her question, glad that the burden of awkwardness was no longer on her.

Finally, Peter spoke up, "Looking for James," He said.

She cocked her head, curious but not wanting to seem too much so, "Why?"

Remus opened his mouth to answer, but Sirius cut in first from his position in the chair, "None of your business, is it, Evans?"

The cynical bite of the remark was much different in tone from James' hushed, hurtful confession from the night before, but it brought that moment back with startling clarity. Lily noticeably stiffened, her eyes going wide and somehow dead at the same time at Sirius' words. Remus noticed immediately and shot Sirius a condemning look. Sirius, having understood the look and realizing that his words had hurt Lily, shot back one of confusion, unsure why what he said would bring out any sort of painful reaction.

After the brief hesitation, Lily acquiesced, "No, I suppose it isn't, Black."

Before she could turn away again, however, Sirius covertly rolled his eyes at Remus before saying, "Ah, hell, Evans, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out and I'm a bastard when I don't get my beauty sleep."

Unbidden, a smile pulled at the corner of Lily's lips as she looked back at Sirius' lounging form, "Beauty sleep? Black, don't flatter yourself."

Sirius' face shot up in a grin as Peter and Remus, Peter especially, laughed a the remark.

"Not bad, Lily Evans," Sirius acknowledged, patting the couch with his foot, "Sit down, maybe we can riddle this out together."

"Oh, no," Lily warned, her vibrancy restored after the awkward tension had been broken, "I am not getting involved with any Marauders prank planning, thank you very much."

"Actually," Remus interjected, sitting down at the other end of the couch as Peter took the chair opposite of Sirius, "We're just looking for James."

"Oh?" Lily asked, subconsciously glad that she wasn't the one to broach the topic of the spectacled boys lack of presence. She took her seat where Sirius had indicated, pushing his leg away with an irritated scowl.

"There was a bit of heated discussion between us yesterday," Remus said diplomatically.

Lily just bit her tongue from saying that they weren't the only ones, and was only able to keep it from exiting her mouth from distraction by Sirius' snort.

"Bit of a shouting match, more like," Sirius said.

Lily looked disbelieving between the boys. Aside from moments during fifth year, following the Snape incident, the boys had shown nothing but a united front from practically the moment they stepped foot off of the Hogwart's express. Even in the wake of whatever had occurred at the Whomping Willow that night the boys had been silent about it and, while they weren't as together as they had been, that was the only sign of tension between the group. It didn't seem like the boys ever had even so much as a disagreement to the outside world.

"You guys and James were shouting at each other?" Lily asked, incredulous.

"You're a good sort, Lily Evans," Sirius said nonchalantly, and seemingly apropos of nothing, "We _know_," Somehow Sirius had managed to make that word into a veiled threat, "That that information will stay between the four of us."

Lily looked condescendingly at Sirius, not the least bit affected by his threat. The redhead opened her mouth to scathingly reply, but Remus interrupted.

"Thank you, Padfoot," Remus said, an edge in his voice leaving no room for continuing that line of conversation. He turned to Lily, "The three of us and James had a disagreement."

Before she could stop herself, the words were out of her mouth, "Me, too," She said.

Sirius laughed, "You two had a row yesterday? When was that? Those are always entertaining. It's fun to see James sputter for once in his life."

Lily smiled, not saying anything, allowing Sirius to carry the conversation away from the true meaning of her words to something far more understandable. She and James having a row. That wasn't strange, the only strange thing was the context and, thankfully, she could avoid that.

Remus chuckled along with Sirius before asking Lily, "Yeah, when _did_ that happen. You'd think we'd have heard about it."

"Oh, well," Lily stammered, and the faint quiver in her voice immediately caused Sirius to perk up, like a dog hearing a dog whistle. Noticing this, Lily tried to stay as close to the truth as possible, "There wasn't really anyone else around, at the time."

Sirius, who had been lounging obnoxiously in the armchair, now sat up, intrigued, "When would you two have had a blowout without anyone around?"

Color rushed to Lily's face, "Last night?" She said, but what should have been a statement came out more like a question.

Instantly Sirius was curious, "Did he say anything odd to you?"

Again, Lily felt a quick sigh of relief as the subject of the conversation was changed from her to James, "No, I was just asking him..." She trailed off, stopping herself, seeing the can of worms about to open if she continued that sentence. She didn't want to.

"Asking him what, Lily?" Remus prodded, equally curious.

She looked at him helplessly, wordless noises coming out of her mouth. He could sense her discomfort and was about to say never mind when Sirius spoke up.

"Lily," He said, and the redhead turned to him, surprised to here her merely first name coming out of the notoriously lackadaisical young man's mouth. His expression was sincere, his worry for James suddenly as crystal clear on his features as they hadn't been this whole conversation. It was the breaking point. She had never seen Sirius so raw and unguarded before, and she realized that however James had touched her life in the past month or so, he had done the same for Sirius over the course of six years and she couldn't let her pride stand in the way of that.

"I was asking him," She still hesitated, "Asking him why he," She let out a frustrated sigh at her struggled to keep some measure of pride when explaining the situation and finally, after a moment's pause, just came out with it, "I asked him why he had told Michelle and not me what he had been doing, sleeping down here for the past month."

"Past _month_?" Sirius asked, sharply.

"Not entirely unexpected, Sirius. We guessed that Prongs had been doing this for awhile," Remus said reasonably.

"Yeah, but for a _month_ and none of us noticed?" Sirius flared, "And why would_ she_ know about it?" He gestured violently at Lily as if she couldn't hear him, "And not us?"

"Because-" Lily tried to begin,

"Rhetorical question, Evans," Sirius spat, sending only a minute glance her way.

"_When my parents died_," Lily began, angrily and loudly, and the blunt force of the statement silenced Sirius' comebacks. He had the decency to look thoroughly ashamed of himself.

"Merlin, Padfoot," Remus condemned quietly, to an annoyed glare from his friend.

"Sorry, Lily," Sirius muttered, and the use of her first name again made her realize just how many facets there were to Sirius who, like James, could easily be written away at first glance (She should know, she had done it for so long). Beneath their boisterous exteriors, however, were complex young men and Lily realized that it was a privilege to see.

"It's alright, Sirius," Lily acknowledged, "But that was the day it started."

"How do you know?" Sirius asked.

"I couldn't sleep in my dorm, yeah?" Lily smiled sadly, "Just, all the people and none of them knowing, and the nightmares that I knew would crop up..." She trailed off for a moment, her eyes getting prickly, but Sirius' interested, solemn nod encouraging her to go on, "So I came out here to sleep, and James found me."

She sighed, the air shaking as it exited her lungs. Remus reached over and rubbed her shoulder gently for a moment and Sirius even patted her knee awkwardly, causing her to giggle unexpectedly. She smiled genuinely at the boy, noting somewhere in the back of her mind that it might have been the first time she had ever done so.

"And he asked me what had happened, yeah? And I hadn't told anybody. I didn't _want _to tell anybody." She looked up, avoiding the boys' eyes for a moment, her gaze wistful, "Or, at least, I thought I didn't. But James..." Again she trailed off, this time looking at Remus, "You just want to strangle him, but you realize you need it," She said smiling, paraphrasing what they had talked about on a patrol one evening.

Remus smiled and nodded back in acknowledgment, and Lily turned her eyes away, looking at the barely spitting flames of the fire, remembering snippets of what James had said about the flames that night. About hope and the future and she smiled in reminiscence.

"He got me to tell him what had happened and he was just..." Again, she trailed off, unsure about how to put it in words, "He helped me," She decided on, "And then I got angry that it was _him_ helping me and started yelling at him for what amounted to nothing," Here she frowned a bit at herself, hesitating momentarily, "But, after that, when I'd come down here to sleep, he'd be down here already. And we'd talk about things, or talk about nothing, or not talk at all."

When people are in an argument, it becomes very easy to only see the argument itself. It's easy to become concerned with fixing the terms of the argument, the back and forth, give and take, tête-à-tête of very specific events. In that, it's possible to forget about the person or people involved in the argument. It's possible to ignore the context of who that person is. It's possible to forget the reasons to forgive very often have little to do with the argument itself.

Lily, unknowingly, was reminding the rest of the Marauders of the context of James.

"So it just hurt," Lily continued, "That he would be so forceful about getting me to talk about the reasons behind every little thing - For Merlin's sake, he was the one who convinced me to talk to anyone else about what had happened - And then, when I asked him about what he was doing, he wouldn't tell me, but he would tell Michelle."

Somehow without seeing that context for herself.

"That's pretty much what our row was about with James, too," Remus agreed, "Not exactly, but for the most part."

"And not to be mean, Lily," Sirius remarked, smiling to let her know he was being lighthearted, "But what James doesn't tell you could probably bridge the English Channel."

Lily grinned at the joke, completely unaware at the truth behind it. At the same time, she realized that she had an out. She saw it, and very much longed to take it. She could simply let it sit there, and let the boys think that the extent of their argument the night before was merely about that. But, if it truly was the crux of the problem between James and his best friends, then she owed it to them to be honest.

"He..." She hesitated for just a moment, drawing the attention of the Marauders in again, "He explained that to me. He said he was just tired of hiding it. He said that Snape could have asked him and he would have admitted it."

Despite the dryness of the situation, Sirius couldn't help but laugh marvelously at that statement. Remus and Peter chuckled along as well, the sentiment being so quintessentially James that it could do nothing but amuse them.

"Well, if he answered your question, why were you down here looking for him?"

Surprisingly, the question came not from Sirius or Remus, but from Peter. The two looked at him, surprise at the relevance of Peter's query and the fact that it had somehow slipped by both of them. In response, Lily flushed for a bit and looked very nervously down at her own lap.

"It seemed like," She began after a few moment's pause, "I don't know. I just wanted to know _why_ he didn't tell me, I guess? Was it just timing? Was it how she asked him? And instead of answering he just said," She laughed bitterly, sadly, "Merlin, I remember this really clearly, he said, 'Lily, everybody knows now, you've got everyone else to go to about it, you can go back to disapproving of me.'"

The expressions of both Sirius and Remus were practically identical. Their eyes went wide in disbelief at the recount of James' resigned honesty. Peter made a vague choking noise of his own disbelief. All three of them assumed that, if Lily had given James an in, he would have taken it without reservation. Lily didn't notice, her gaze had moved from her own lap to what was presumably a very interesting crack in the ceiling.

"I asked him, 'Did it ever occur to you that I don't _want_ to go back to that, James?'" Lily gave out a very tired, very shaky sigh, frowning at the top of the Common Room, "And he answered, he looked right at me and he said, 'I can honestly say that it never did.'"

Sirius couldn't help himself, he let out a low whistle of amazement, shaking his head. Remus frowned seriously, again putting his hand on Lily's shoulder. She looked at him suddenly, as if remembering he was there, and smiled at him. She put her own hand on top of his, patting it there for a moment, before turning to the fireplace. James' fireplace. The future. Hope.

Remus removed his hand, gesturing with his head towards the Common Room door to indicate to Sirius that they should continue their search for James. Sirius nodded, making to get up, when the Common Room door opened unexpectedly and the search was over. James strode in, his expression neutral and unreadable, before he caught sight of his friends, sitting with Lily by the fire. Immediately he stopped, the portrait hole swinging closed behind him.

"Hey," He said, both uncertain and suspicious.

"Hey," Sirius said quietly, trying to keep his voice even and give James no reason to be suspicious, "Where were you at?"

"Early brekkie," James answered, his tone still wavering. He looked to each of the people sitting by the fireplace in turn, his gaze lingering on Lily for a moment longer, but she didn't meet his eyes. It wasn't refusal that was keeping her gaze off of him, but merely hurt. James frowned, the hurt transferring over to his own features. He was always the Marauder's biggest proponent of Rule #6.

The Marauder's Handbook to Life had originated merely as a few scraps of parchment with faux-proverbs and fortune cookie philosophies. But, over the course of six years, it had evolved from a joke, modeled after Hogwart's own infamous rulebook, to a set of guidelines and principals that a group of four boys had determined would not only make their lives and the lives of those around them better, but would make them into better people themselves. Even the rules of exclusion became ways to avoid being outright cruel. It was better, to them, to cite Rule #30 to Mrs. Pettigrew when she asked if they wanted any Pumpkin Juice than to outright refuse. But it was rules like Rule #6, "Never Make A Girl Cry" that made the document worth carrying on throughout their careers at school, that made it more than simply a joke, that made it, truly, a handbook to life.

"What's going on?" James asked, his tone a little more reasonable.

Remus looked at Sirius for a moment, who nodded his assent.

"Rule Fifty-Seven," Remus said.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: My past few weeks: JobhuntjobhuntjobhuntjobhuntjobhuntINSPIRATIONFORTHESTORYjobhuntjobhunt... ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**mebmarker24: Aww, I wasn't intending to tease! Anywho, I'm not so much a fan of intros as I am a fan of giving each chapter a theme. Something universal to hold on to, rather than just be a series of events. It inspires me a bit more than just sitting down and writing the next event. Thanks for the review!**

**YvonnePark: Thank you for your kind words. I agree, I couldn't imagine the way Remus would have had to feel, especially being unable to process things at that sort of age. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well!**

**xWayTooMuchSugarx: Thanks for the review! Sorry for the long wait on the update!**

**M'rika: Thank you for the corrections! I think that must have happened in one of my programs or something, because I'd be really weirded out if I typed that same incorrect spelling twice in separate instances. Thanks for the reviews as well!**

**hushpuppy22: I really like exploring Lily and James, and I'm glad you're enjoying it, too. Thanks for the review!**

**Julie AV: Actually all of Chapter 14 was the bludger, is what I was meaning to imply with that ending. In chapter 13 he had focused his sights on protecting everything on his own and then, in chapter 14, it all kind of blew up in his face. Thanks for the review!**

**KaceyO: Thank you for your kind words, and I'm glad you're continuing to read! I'm glad you like that line, I was worrying it was a bit too cutesy. Thanks for reviewing!**


	16. Illusions

The most important illusion is the illusion of safety.

In fact, sometimes actual safety can be sacrificed for the illusion of a greater safety. When whispers began to surface of a rousing of Inferi, the Ministry of Magic was presented with the option of placing exterior lights on magical homes that were charmed to be bright enough to ward off Inferi while the Ministry was alerted to their presence. Deciding that the costs were too great, the Ministry instead ran an article full of obvious safety tips to assuage the minds of England's Wizarding community.

There were two reasons for this. One was, obviously, money. The other was just as simple. The illusion of safety often makes people feel more safe than actual safety. Muggles demonstrate this as well. They employ an astonishing number of public safety officials per capita, yet still feel the need to install extravagant home security systems and own guns to feel safe within the confines of their own place of residence.

People often opt for the illusion of safety even in their personal lives. When Lily Evans was in the early stages of grieving for her parents, she found a safe harbor in James Potter. It was actual safety, but her refusal to open up to anyone else about the issue was the illusion. Keeping everything hidden sometimes seemed safer than giving it to James. The illusion of safety had been more compelling than the actual safety of empathy and comfort.

James' situation was similar, truth be told. His one-man defense amounted to nothing more than an illusion, in true practice. If Death Eaters were to storm Gryffindor Tower, his precautions would certainly have been a quick word of warning, but it would have ultimately done little to no good. His refusal to speak on the subject was an illusion, as well. He felt as if avoiding the subject would somehow protect everyone, protect himself, from the reality behind his decisions. If he didn't mention that he was guarding the dorms, then maybe there would be no reason to guard them at all.

When the illusion shatters, people break.

When, despite a Muggle's home security systems and firearms, they are still robbed. When a Wizard comes face to face with his first Inferi, despite public insistence that the Ministry has everything under control. When someone else has to face the fate of a black envelope. When it becomes too apparent that what someone is trying to protect people from is incorporeal, a ghost, a shadow.

When the illusion shatters, people break.

* * * * * * * *

Lily had gone back to her dorm, attempting to give the four boys some semblance of privacy. Only James had really noticed her leaving. She had avoided his eyes the entire, awkward sentence that stumbled out of her mouth as she excused herself. Remus' eyes had flickered towards her for a second, but as she stepped away he returned his gaze to James. None of them could discern a single word that she had attempted to utter.

It was just the four of them, like yesterday. They were surrounding him, like yesterday.

"So, you and Evans, huh?" Sirius asked playfully.

James was thrown by the question. He had been prepared for a redo of yesterday's confrontation, "What?" He asked blankly.

"Didn't think you had it in you, mate," Sirius continued, as if James hadn't said anything, "Thought all that going on patrol business was for naught."

"What are you-" James tried again to intercede and figure out where the conversation was going.

"But, to be frank," Sirius continued, again ignoring his friend, his tone changing from playful to humorless, "I think you're an idiot."

James, a bit dumbfounded from his best friend's assault, looked slowly towards Remus, who just shrugged in return, not entirely sure what the eldest Black was aiming for with this line of questioning. James looked back at Sirius, his brows knit in confusion.

Sirius answered the unasked question, "You pine after this girl for a solid year and a half and then, when you seem to finally get to her, you push her away? Either you've become entirely too good at playing girls when we weren't looking or, like I said before, you're an idiot. I'm leaning towards the latter."

James sighed, casting his eyes downward as Sirius finally got to the point, "Look, Padfoot, it's none of your business, really-"

"We're _family_," Sirius said forcefully, forcing James to meet his gaze, "We're all each other's business. You know that."

James leaned back in his seat, exhaling loudly and painfully, but remaining otherwise silent. He searched the ceiling for somewhere to begin as his friends, knowing him, allowed him to do so. He let out another short sigh before finally bringing his eyes level with the other three Marauders.

"I want to fight," James said simply, deliberately avoiding the topic of Lily.

"Us?" Peter squeaked quickly.

"No, not us, Wormtail," Sirius answered scornfully before turning quickly back to James, "Not us, right?" He asked nervously.

"No," James said simply, the fact that he didn't crack a joke at the question an indication of his seriousness. He paused for a moment, his gaze looking at the fire before turning back to his friends, "Do you remember how this whole new pranking thing started?"

"We were bored?" Sirius asked, grinning.

James frowned, but Remus answered before he could open his mouth to scornfully reply, "You wanted to bring up the morale of the school. You thought we could make people happier," Remus said, James nodding at his words.

"Yeah," James agreed, "And we have, a bit, I get that. But," He closed his eyes, a pained expression flitting across his features for a moment before his lids opened again, "It just seems like it's so temporary."

Sirius frowned, allowing James statement to sink in. He looked at Remus who nodded covertly to his friend, his own expression dark. Peter looked at his friends, taking cues from them and adopting a lifelessly sad expression that didn't quite seem genuine.

"It is, Prongs," Remus said quietly, "It's a bit temporary."

"And to make it permanent, we have to get rid of the problem," James concluded, just as quiet, but with a deep force resonating beneath his words. He looked up from his feet, his eyes suddenly intense, "So I want to fight."

"You want to fight You-Know-Who?" Peter asked in a near whisper, awed and terrified at the same time.

"Yes," James said with finality, "I do."

"'Course you do," Beamed Sirius, a grin springing to his features. He sounded a bit like a proud father.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys about what I was doing down here," James continued, "I just..." He trailed off for a moment before picking up his thought again, "I felt helpless, with everything going on and the pranks not really helping as much as I thought they would. I wanted to do something where I felt like I was _helping_."

"We would have helped you, Prongs," Remus said quietly.

"I know, but it just felt like it would have been another of our..." James struggled for a few seconds with a suitable word, "_things_," He finally decided on, "If all of you were in danger, too..." He sighed, "I didn't want do that. I wanted to protect you guys, too."

"Got a bit of a hero complex, mate?" Sirius asked cheerfully, scooting over to where James was sitting and slapping him on the back almost hard enough to knock the Chaser over.

"Maybe," James grinned, grabbing Sirius around the neck and batting him on the head with his wand, "Or maybe I just didn't think you could handle it!" He cried joyfully as Sirius struggled in his arms.

The two rolled around for a few minutes, pushing and grabbing at the others. Remus laughed, trying to maintain an appearance of disapproval while still laughing his arse off as he stared at the ceiling. Finally the duo separated, panting heavily. Sirius returned to his seat next to Remus on the couch, only to be forced to "Oof" loudly as James threw himself onto both of their laps, his legs over Remus, his body over Sirius, "Get off, you fat lout!" Sirius cried indignantly, laughing as he did so, as Remus continued to shake his head and bite his lip to try and force the laughter back. After another short struggle, James was seated between his two best friends, his arm obnoxiously draped over each of them. Remus had finally managed to look serious again, and Sirus sported a huge grin.

"That went well, I think," James said cheekily.

"So are we fighting You-Know-Who or what?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Well," James' tone changed and he withdrew his arms, "Dumbledore told me about something."

"You talked to _Dumbledore_ about this, James?" Remus asked, his interest growing.

"Yeah," James said sheepishly, "Like I said, I want to fight. I figured he would know how."

"Smart move, Prongs," Sirius nodded approvingly, "What'd the old codger say?"

"Done with school," James said, sighing as he did so, "He said if I wanted to fight I had to wait until I was done with school."

"Fair enough," Sirius said simply.

"_Fair enough_?" James asked sharply, his head whipping towards Sirius in surprise, "_Really_? 'Fair enough'?"

"Well, I doubt Dorea and Charlus would let their ickle Jamesiekins run off and fight on his own," Sirius cried obnoxiously, attempting to pinch James' cheek around the other boy's flapping hands, "And Dumbledore would be sure to let them know if you were still at hoggy warty Hogwart's."

"Didn't really think about that," James admitted, laughing as he was still trying to keep Sirius' hands from his face.

"Oh, give it a rest, Padfoot," Remus finally said, batting the taller boy's hands away. Sirius grinned incorrigibly, but did as the Gryffindor prefect said, "So what is Dumbledore doing, James?" Remus asked.

"He's started an organization called Order of the Phoenix. They're fighting, I guess. That's all I know," James said.

"Sounds wicked," Sirius said with a dangerous grin.

"Of course you would say that," Remus said reproachfully, "If we're going to do this, we need to make sure we're ready," He continued, the tiniest hint of a grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, "We're more than ready!"

"You sure?" Remus asked carefully, letting the grin blossom, "Because I think that practicing more and more difficult magic, under the guise of morale-boosting pranks, would be beneficial."

There was a moment of silence as all four exchanged looks, their smiles growing. After a moment James cried, "Moony, I knew there was a reason we kept you around!" As he grabbed his other friend around the neck and began wrestling with him as well.

When the illusion of safety shatters, people break.

But when true safety returns, the safety of a Muggle police officer catching a burglar or an Auror dispatching an Inferi, the safety of friends helping fight, even if it's just against ghosts and shadows, is when people rebuild.

* * * * * * * *

"Hey, James," Lily said quietly.

Her own reflection in the sixth year Gryffindor girls dormitories stared back at her, unable to reply for James. Lily gave her reflection an exasperated look, one which her reflection returned. She sighed heavily.

"James, can we talk?" She tried again.

It still didn't sound right.

"James, I just..." She trailed off, some strange combination of a growl, a sigh and a scream coming out of the back of her throat.

Why was she so nervous and unsure about this? She had never been nervous or unsure about James in her entire life. Her emotions towards James were dependable, unchanging. Even over the past month and a half, while she had opened up to him and hadn't thought of him quite as poorly as she once did, her basic emotions towards him, exasperation, disbelief, begrudging respect, occasional humor, had not changed. So, why now?

The door to the lavatory creaked as someone slowly opened it, but even that light sound made Lily jump suddenly. She looked, wide-eyed at the door, suddenly worrying about how loud she had been speaking. She hadn't thought anyone else was there.

Michelle peaked her head through the door, a half-smile playing on her features, but confusion in her eyes. The pair had become closer since Lily had began opening up to people about the deaths of her parents. They had been fine friends over the past couple of years but it's hard to make a best friend who is a pureblood when you're Muggle born. It wasn't any sort of blood purity nonsense, just the matter of being forcibly separated for three months out of the year, staying in completely different worlds.

"Do you want me to pretend I didn't hear any of that?" Michelle asked softly.

"Oh, Merlin," Lily groaned, hanging her head back towards the ceiling. She didn't answer Michelle's question either way. She wasn't entirely sure of the answer herself.

"So what is that all about?" Michelle continued.

Lily sighed, her shoulders slumping just a bit as she looked away, avoiding Michelle's gaze, "I don't know," She grimaced.

"Is James... James Potter?" Michelle pressed, taking a step into the lavatory, closing the door behind her and placing a hand on Lily's shoulder.

Lily's expression softened a bit at the contact, and she simply nodded in reply.

"What kind of Lily Evans," Michelle began, smiling gently and her tone lightly playful, "Is practicing how to greet James Potter? The world's gone mad!" She exclaimed softly.

Lily smiled, glad for her friend to play the situation off lightly, "I've been talking with him," The admission scared her slightly but, at the same time, it finally felt alright. She knew it was one thing to admit to the Marauders that she and James had been conversing and, if she wanted, they would have kept that secret for her (they were very good at keeping secrets). To admit it to one of her friends was a different thing, harder and easier than admitting to James about her parents but, just as she did when that black envelope fluttered in front of Emmeline, Lily fought her feelings, knowing it was the right time to do so.

Michelle hesitated for a moment, unsure what to make of Lily's statement, "About what?"

Lily's breath hitched for half of a second before she whispered, "Everything," Her voice cracking just a bit.

Michelle retracted her hand, her eyes blinking forcefully in surprise, "Really?" She asked, her voice suddenly a normal volume.

"Since it happened," Lily admitted, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself.

"Really?" Michelle asked again, this time her hushed and surprised, her hand going back to Lily's shoulder, again comforting.

Lily nodded again in answer before continuing, "I'm sorry," She said.

"What for, darling?" Michelle asked, confused.

"I just..." Lily struggled with the words for a moment, "I told _James Potter_ and not you. You're one of my best friends here and I could tell _him_ but not you?" She finally looked over to her friend, "That doesn't seem right."

"Oh, honey," Michelle whispered, pulling Lily close in for a hug, "You didn't do anything wrong, okay?"

Michelle felt Lily nod against her shoulder, "Okay," Lily whispered.

"Now, what's going on with James?" Michelle asked, putting Lily again at arm's length. Lily's eyes immediately went to the side again, her fingers fidgeting with each other.

"I don't know," Lily answered, truthfully.

"Do you like him?" Michelle asked pointedly.

Lily laughed humorlessly, "I haven't been in any sort of way to even be thinking like that, Michelle."

Michelle half-smiled in acknowledgement, "That's true," She acquiesced, "So, what's up, then?"

Lily looked up at her friend again, then broke her gaze away, her mouth contorting as if in pain, "I can't believe I'm telling you this," She mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Michelle asked.

"I was..." Lily hesitated, looking sidelong at Michelle again, "I was _jealous_ of you," She admitted helplessly.

"Jealous of me?" Michelle asked, flabbergasted, "About what?"

Lily's mouth opened and shut obviously for a few seconds before she finally forced the words out, "He..." She hesitated for just a moment, "He told _you_," She said hopelessly, "I had asked him what he had been doing down there the night before and he didn't tell me but..." She trailed off, sighing in a manner that clearly indicated she thought of herself as pathetic, "I sound stupid."

"Oh, honey," Michelle pulled Lily into another hug, "It's not stupid."

Lily pulled away just enough to give Michelle a scathing look.

"Okay," Michelle relented, "It's a little stupid," The taller girl smiled softly, enough for the corners of Lily's mouth to turn up in an imperceptible ghost of a smile.

Over Michelle's shoulder Lily quietly continued, "I told him everything," She pleaded, for some reason needing someone to understand this point, "He dragged it out of me. And he couldn't give me the answer to one little question, when he's so _open_ about _everything_."

Michelle's head inclined away from Lily's slightly, "Is he?" She asked.

Thrown off a bit by the oddness of the question, Lily pulled back from Michelle's hug, "What-" She hesitated for a second, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Michelle said easily, "All I ever hear him talk about is Quidditch and his friends and girls, when it's apparent to anyone with half a brain that he must have more going on than that, yeah?"

A frown pulled on Lily's features. She had never really considered it before, but it rang true. James was incredibly open but, as Michelle pointed out, deceptively so. Those surface impressions were more than willing to jump out at you but his intelligence, his wit, and there were of course those moments that Lily knew were unique to her time with James, or at least never seen outside of the Marauders, those late night moments in the Gryffindor Common Room, where he had opened up to her as she had to him. She remembered suddenly, and felt awful at forgetting, him telling her about his parents, a fact that she was knew was unknown to any of her classmates, again discluding the Marauders.

"Yeah," She muttered softly.

"I never wanted to tell you," Michelle continued smiling, "Because I knew you disapproved of them and I knew they picked on Snape when you and he were still friends," She said quickly and sheepishly, "But in fourth and fifth year I had a time deciding if I fancied James or Sirius more," To finish the statement, Michelle waggled her eyebrows exaggeratively.

Lily laughed, the sadness progressively exiting with each chuckle, at her friend's honesty and ridiculousness, "Black I can understand!" Lily said with a tone of mock-exasperation, "But Potter?" She even raised her voice slightly, to mock how she might have sounded at fourteen, before both of them dissolved once again into giggles.

After a moment, Michelle composed herself, looking at her friend with a motherly expression, "Really, though, Lily, what is going on with James?"

Lily's smile fell away, replaced with look of hapless confusion, her lips struggling to form words, "He just..." She let out a noise of frustration, "He helped, yeah? He helped me tell everyone else about what had happened," Here Michelle made a noise of surprise that Lily continued past, "And then, _God_," she groaned, turning away from her friend.

Michelle took a pair of tiny steps towards Lily, reaching out to touch her shoulder, "Lily?" She asked.

Lily hung her head, turning and causing Michelle to drop her arm. She took a slight step back, as if she wanted to keep Michelle at an arm's length, crossing her own arms over her chest, "After I confronted him about telling you," Lily rushed, "He said that I could go back to disapproving of him, now that I didn't have to rely on him support."

"Oh, wow," Michelle said, mildly shocked, but with enough empathy not to sound tactless.

"And I asked him if he ever thought that maybe I didn't want to do that," Lily laughed humorlessly, "And of course he says that he never had," She laughed again, this time almost bitter, "Merlin, why does that _bother_ me so much?"

Sometimes, oddly enough, the illusion of safety can be provided by that which can also provide real safety. When you lose trust in something or someone that was supposed to protect you, the illusion shatters and people break.

"You're not an open book yourself, Lily," Michelle murmured affectionately.

The only way to restore that trust is the admittedly difficult task of putting your trust in that person or thing again.

Lily gave Michelle a queer look, as if she wanted to defend herself from the comment. She opened her mouth to retort, but the incredulity faded away as she realized the truth of the statement.

"Just tell him," Michelle urged, and it sounded so much like James that Lily wanted to check her friend for Polyjuice Potion, "Whatever it is you have to say to him, just tell him."

Lily nodded absently in reply.

* * * * * * * *

It was fitting, Lily thought, how she wasn't able to see James again until that evening. He was sitting with the rest of the Marauders that evening, their spirits higher than they had been since the initial April Fool's prank, higher than seemed appropriate in the current mood of Hogwart's but, as it always did with those boys, their mood had seeped through everyone in the school and it seemed to brighten the very hallways they walked through.

Now the Gryffindor Common Room was full of life because of the four boys, their Exploding Snap cards scattered and ignored, they were instead now tossing Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans at each other and seeing who could create the most interesting transfiguration in the time it took the bean to travel from one Marauder's hand to the other's mouth. James' last seemed to have blown the competition away, as he transfigured a white jelly bean, reportedly ice cream flavored, into a dove that had flown a few times around the Common Room at top speed, causing a few screeches and more laughter before poofing suddenly and falling directly into James' mouth. Even Lily applauded, though she hid it under the table she was working at.

As students began to retire for the night and she saw he and his friends packing up their things, she sheepishly moved a bit to try to put herself in his line of sight. Before her actions could become too obvious or embarrassing she caught his eye, giving him a quick, soft smile that he nodded at. He said something to the other Marauders, who nodded in reply and left for the sixth-year boys dormitories as James headed over to sit across from Lily.

It was odd, she thought, to see his confidence drain with each step. As each person retired for the evening, more and more of that Frank Sinatra facade slipped and he could step into the more reserved James Potter. By the time he reached her table, there was nothing of Sinatra left, just a tired boy who gave her a sheepish smile as he nodded his head towards the chair, as if to ask if he could sit there, where five minutes ago he would have pulled it out and put his feet on the table, not bothering to avoid knocking any of her things over.

She looked at him for a few moments, really looked at him. He was safety and the illusion of safety. She had retreated into him because he offered true safety after her parents died. He was someone who had burrowed into her just enough to get the truth out and provide some measure of comfort. She had remained there because of the illusion, his neutrality in her life offering an excuse about why he was the perfect candidate to talk to about these things, a reason not to tell anyone else.

"Look, Evans," He said softly, "I'm sorry about what I said last night."

"Did you mean it?" She asked quickly, sharply. She needed to know.

His expression was pained, and it seemed immediately apparent that he did not want to answer that particular question, "Can I explain after I answer?" He asked.

"Of course," Lily replied.

"Then the answer is yes," James confirmed, "I did think you would just go back to disapproving of me after you had told everyone else about..." He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.

"Why?" She asked him, her voice still impressively neutral.

"Why?" He repeated, his voice strained and his eyes avoiding hers, "Because that's the way it's been, yeah? I do something, you have a go at me, I do something, you have a go at me..." Again his voice trailed off, his eyes scanning the room, trying to maintain the idea that they were looking for something instead of avoiding her gaze, "I guess, I just figured..." Instead of finishing the sentence, he sighed heavily, a sudden weight coming onto his shoulders and dropping his gaze to the table and pushing his shoulders towards the floor.

"What?" Lily asked, her voice suddenly comforting, "What is it?"

James finally looked up at her, his eyes communicating as many emotions as there are colors in a refracted beam of light through a prism before they retreated over her right shoulder, "All the pranks we were doing," He started, Lily a bit thrown by the change in subject but gamely following, "All the _good_ we were doing," He corrected, "It just all seemed so very, very..." She could feel his distaste for the word, "_temporary_."

His eyes caught hers again for a quick moment before he continued, "I thought it would be too much to ask for you not to be temporary, too," He finished quietly.

She looked again at him for a moment, forcing him to meet her eyes once again, and she sighed at him, a slight smile tugging at her features, "James, I wouldn't have got through this without you. There's nothing temporary about that."

She had found safety in it.

"Yeah?" He asked, his eyes for the first time since he had approached her sparking of Frank Sinatra.

"Yeah," Lily confirmed.

She had found safety in it again.

No illusions.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: I am an employed member of society! Hip hip hooray! Sorry about the absolutely atrocious wait on this chapter, everyone. But now it's going places! I think! ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**maximumpotter101: I don't know how far you got beyond the first chapter, but I hope you read the rest of the way through and enjoyed it! Thanks for the review!**

**KaceyO: Thanks for the good luck, and I'm glad you liked the Sirius/Lily interaction. I always thought they would have a begrudging respect for Lily for her wit (which I'm hoping to put more of in this story). Thanks for keeping up!**

**Yvonne Park: I agree, it would be fun to create a fake rulebook like that, though you'd need a very specific set of people to get away with it. Thank you for enjoying my writing and for continuing to review!**

**gracelynn: I tried to update as soon as possible! Thanks for the review!**

**floss bucket: But wouldn't it be just like Sirius to make the rule intentionally wrong and then enforce it so thoroughly? It would make me laugh, at least. Thank you, though, for pointing it out! And for reviewing!**

**M'rika: Thanks for the corrections! I am apparently dumb. I am glad you enjoyed the characterizations of all of them, as that was my primary intention with this piece of fanfiction, to really flesh out this particular group of characters and their dynamics with each other. Thanks for the review!**

**Julie AV: Aww, well I hope you have had better luck since the summer on the job hunt, but thank you for the good luck hope, and now that I have one hopefully I can have at least some spare time to dedicate to this. Thanks for reviewing!**

**: I apologize for taking so long on this one! Hopefully your days weren't too boring in between my updates! I'm so glad you are enjoying the piece and thank you for the review!**

**elephunts101: You're too kind! I'm glad you like the piece so much and thanks for the reviews!**

**prettypicking: I really appreciate your kind words about my writing and my style and the direction I've taken this story. They mean a lot. And thank you for saying that you think I could make a living out of writing, as I actually am attempting to do just that (I am trying to break into the scene as a music critic)! So thanks for the motivation and thanks for reviewing!**

**Polar-gal341: I'm trying! I'm glad that you're continuing on with the story (and pushing me to 100 reviews! Hip hip hooray again!) and thanks for the reveiw!**


	17. Lines

The process of making friends changes as people age. In youth, friends are made simply by proximity, the people seen with any sort of consistency are the people befriended. This ritual continues through childhood unless incompatibilities are simply too obvious to ignore. Even when these incompatibilities crop up it is difficult not to simply befriend these people, simply because friendship in childhood is such a communal experience and it can be difficult to ostracize a single member of the group.

When the teenage years begin to creep up is when the act of making friends changes for the first time. Groups splinter into smaller factions, based around shared activities and interests, and the first gestations of ideas and opinions about people, about things, about life. New friends are still made easily, if they show similar interests or opinions. It is no coincidence that two years prior to becoming a teenager, the years this phase usually starts, is when students at Hogwart's are sorted into their respective Houses.

As people progress through their teenage years they begin the most dangerous part of the friendmaking process. They realize the things they have in common with their friends that are _unspoken_, rather than spoken. They notice the similarities in the way they treat other people, in the foods they eat and, most (and least) importantly in physical appearance. In these years people begin to sort out their preconceptions. While a preconception can be handy, they are often too general to effectively appeal to everyone. At this age, however, such fine distinctions cannot be made and, as such, the preconceptions teenagers make to determine who they should befriend are blunt, ineffective, and often hurtful.

In the later teens, people begin to recognize the flaws in their preconceptions and readjust their thinking accordingly. They do not refuse people base don their preconceptions and they do not cast those preconceptions out as a general blanket over all of a certain group of people. They are still there, they are simply honed and refined.

At this age, strangely enough, is the most difficult time to make new friends. If a new person is met, unless they are almost completely indoctrinated into the practices and customs of that group of friends, they will usually always feel like an outsider, struggling to break into the group's inside jokes and long-standing ties. Even more difficult is a person who has been known to the group forever, but not involved in their group for whatever reason, be they preconceptions that have now solidified, regardless of their truth, or simply too much of a difference of interest in their younger years, these people have the hardest time breaking into an already established group of friends.

These facts only made it stranger that, seemingly out of the blue, one day James Potter and Lily Evans were friends.

* * * * * * * *

"And then," Lily said, laughing as she walked beside James, "And then _Mary_ catches on, and she just _screams_, 'Frank's in his skivvies! Frank's in his skivvies!'"

James had to put an arm on Lily's shoulder to keep himself upright, he was laughing so hard.

"I didn't think you could fly without a broom before I saw the way Alice took those stairs to get to that window," Lily was barely able to force out.

At this point James had actually stopped, holding his side in pain as he tried to catch his breath. Lily took a few more steps before stopping, too, her laughter far lighter than James', and a content smile on her face as he laughed. It was good to see James laughing again. When James didn't laugh, it seemed like nobody did.

Finally, after a minute or two, James was able to compose himself, chuckling as he looked at Lily through sparkling eyes, "What'd she do after she figured out you were all having a laugh at her expense?" He asked, grinning and falling again into step next to Lily.

"Oh, you know Alice," Lily said, waving her hand as they continued, "She just turned red and got incredibly embarrassed, but she didn't do anything to us except scowl. She's far too sweet."

"Well, well, well. Manipulative, cruel little Lily Evans," James bantered playfully, "I'd have never believed it if I hadn't heard it from the source."

"Oh, shut up," Lily laughed, "It was funny."

"It was," James agreed sycophantically, "I would definitely say it was funny," He looked at Lily sidelong, who noticed that he was trying his best to hold back a huge grin.

"What?" She demanded, "What do you think is so funny about me doing that?"

James laughed, the smile fully spilling out, "Oooh, I don't know. Let's see," He gestured with his hands, looking up aimlessly into the sky, as if he was trying to discern something he couldn't quite see, "I'm just imagining a red-headed fifteen-year old girl stumbling upon a completely innocent, well-mannered and dashingly handsome boy-"

He broke off for a moment, as Lily shoved him good-naturedly.

"Oof!" He exhaled, intentionally overreacting to the contact, "Fine, have it your way; absolutely, _irresistibly_ handsome boy," He corrected, smiling large as Lily gave him a warning look that couldn't hide a sparkle in her eyes, "I'm imagining these two people in a similar situation, but with the boy pulling the trick and being beaten half to death with his own wand."

"You were telling a third year if he jumped out of the window he'd get a glimpse of the girls dormitories on the way down!" Lily cried.

"He would have!" James protested, "He absolutely would have gotten a glimpse of the girls dormitories on the way down! It's true."

"He'd have been severely injured!" Lily protested, shocked that James was still defending this action.

"Nah," James said easily, "We had a rather massive cushioning charm on the ground below, he'd have just bounced around a little."

"Wha-" Lily stopped, blinking a bit in surprise, "Really?"

"Merlin's beard!" James cried, turning around in shock, "You really _did_ think us the worst, didn't you, Evans!?" But his accusation held no contempt in it, to Lily's surprise. James' eyes still were alight with mischief and warmth and she was surprised to see he held no grudge.

"Well," Lily defended, continuing the walk in light of James' good humor, "You four didn't exactly give me a whole lot of reason not to!" She said reasonably, raising her eyebrows at James as if daring him to contradict her.

"Ah, well," James said nonchalantly, keeping pace with her "It all worked out in the end, yeah?" He said, gesturing nonsensically. Lily had come to find out that James gestured pointlessly in accompaniment to just about everything he said.

The most common gesture was the now ubiquitous act of ruffling his already messy hair. Back in fifth year she had made the accusation of him doing it so he could make it look like he had just stepped off of a broom but, as with most of her preconceptions about James' actions, she found she was only about half right. He had admitted that, originally, it was to give himself the windblown appearance that got girls to grin his way, but it had become an enjoyable habit that he did occasionally without his own knowledge and occasionally just because he enjoyed the action now for itself.

"It did," Lily agreed.

"I wish..." James began, then trailed off. Lily looked over at him only to find him suddenly very interested in some of the passing paintings.

"You wish...?" She mocked his fading question, trying to get his attention.

He sighed, something between a smile and a frown appearing on his face, "I just wish you didn't have to go through, you know..." He ran his hand through his hair, "everything."

Lily allowed herself a small, sad smile. She grabbed James' wrist, forcing him to stop and look at her so she could see her expression, "I know you do, James. But you've kind of becoming my silver lining in all of this," She grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze and him a gentle smile.

James' smile was wan and unsure, such a wildly foreign expression on his features that it looked vaguely painful, "Thanks," He said simply, intently watching as his hand left hers to return to her side.

"Mr. _Potter_?" An incredulous voice interrupted the moment, causing Lily and James both to flinch simply from volume. Both of them looked to the end of the hallway from where the voice came and saw Professor McGonnagal standing there.

"What do you think-" She began.

"He's patrolling with me, professor," Lily interjected hastily.

It had actually been the fourth time they had been out on patrols together. Remus had been more than fine with allowing the change. Though neither Lily or James knew, Remus thought the patrols served as a way for James to fulfill his need to protect the people in Hogwart's. He suggested the idea to James who took it under the masculine guise of getting to spend more time with a girl he fancied, but Remus could tell that it had meant more to him than that. After the nights of the patrols, James always had an extra purpose in his stance, a more commanding aura in his very presence.

"Patrolling with- Ms. Evans, I assume you know that Mr. Potter is not a prefect?" McGonnagal demanded.

"No, I know," Lily pressed, her voice unnecessarily urgent, "It's just, Remus was behind on some schoolwork, and James _offered_-"

"You _offered _to patrol, Mr. Potter?" McGonnagal interrupted, her voice turning incredulous as she looked to James for confirmation.

"Well," James mumbled as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, "Yeah, I suppose I did."

"He's been a real help," Lily added, not wishing James to get in trouble when he had honestly been a help on the patrols, not only with helping her mood, but also as a paradoxically able disciplinarian, "I think the students we find out of the corridors listen to him more than they listen to me or Remus," She confirmed.

"Is that so?" The Transfiguration professor said contemplatively, still looking at the suddenly shy and unassuming James Potter.

James looked up, looking to find McGonnagal seemingly waiting for an answer, "Er, yes?"

"That's very interesting, Mr. Potter," His Head of House said neutrally.

"Interesting enough not to get detention?" James asked hopefully. Lily almost laughed, only keeping it from springing to her lips from fear of Professor McGonnagal's reaction.

The Deputy Headmistress sighed, looking tiredly at James, whose expression was somehow both playful and cowed, serious and silly, "If you are performing as admirably as Ms. Evans insists you are, I believe that no detention should be in order," Light sprang quickly to James' eyes and, upon seeing it, McGonnagal quickly added, "However, please try to tell Mr. Lupin that, regardless of your admirable sentiments, Mr. Potter, he should be the one performing these duties."

"Yes, ma'am," James said soberly, the light still not quite leaving his eyes.

Professor McGonnagal nodded slightly to them, "As you were," she said quietly as she continued on in her own patrol of the castle.

The pair stood there, a bit unnerved by the interruption, until it was absolutely clear that McGonnagal was out of hearing range. As soon as she was Lily let out a relieved sigh and, simultaneously, James broke out into a fit of laughter.

Lily looked at him, raising a single eyebrow in question. James struggled to get a hold of himself, unable to contain his laughter, but kept one arm up with a single finger raised to indicate he needed a moment.

He wiped his eyes as he finally caught himself, dropping his arm as he muttered joyfully, "Brilliant."

Lily smirked at James' reaction, "What exactly was brilliant about that?" She asked teasingly.

"She's letting me off detention to roam the corridors with a pretty girl and scare ickle firsties into their beds!" James cried, faking shock that Lily couldn't see it, "What isn't brilliant about that?"

Lily laughed, her face the slightest bit warm from James' pretty girl comment and she was glad they were in a particularly poorly lit corridor so that James couldn't see. Instead she settled for sighing dramatically, "I suppose it's too much to ask you to take anything seriously?" She said, continuing their walk back to the Common Room.

"'Course," James said easily, falling into step with her, "If I took everything seriously, we wouldn't be here now," He added, making it sound like that simple fact solved everything.

"Oh?" Lily questioned curiously, "Now, see, I feel just the opposite. I feel like it was you _finally_ taking something seriously that got us to this point," She challenged pointedly, raising her eyebrows playfully.

"Well, a little from the wizard and a little from the wand," James said, using a common phrase meant to suggest that both were partially responsible, "I'd have given up on you long ago if I took everything seriously," James opened his mouth to continue, then shut it abruptly and an uncomfortable look flitting over his face for a quick moment.

"Given _up_ on me?" Lily asked, the slightest hitch in her throat. Both of them seemed to sense they were toeing close to dangerous territory.

It wasn't in James' nature to deflect questions or to avoid answers. It wasn't in his nature not to say what he was thinking at any given moment in time. His tenuous new friendship with Lily seemed to have him teetering and off balance constantly. He knew he shouldn't bring up certain things, but it was just part of his nature for those very topics to spill out of his mouth. It was a part of him.

Friends accept each other for who they are. This is the way a friendship works. If you cannot deal with the flaws of a person, you simply cannot be friends with them. But it is also a part of friendship to understand and incorporate the feelings of your friend into the things you say or do to them.

With the Marauders, James had found virtual mirrors of his own personality and never felt like anything he might say or do would hurt them. With Lily it was different and exciting, terrifying and interesting. It was against his nature, but he knew to preserve his friendship with Lily, there were conversations they just couldn't have.

"You know," James said directionlessly, his voice losing a measure of good humor and seeming rather uncomfortable, "Given up on..." His voice trailed off, implying that even he didn't know how to get out of the conversation without venturing into territory neither of them were ready for, "Talking to you," He ended lamely.

Lily saw the difficulties James was having. She knew it was not a part of him to avoid a topic, to reconsider his words, to say something he only partially meant when it was far easier to say exactly what he was intending.

She thought being friends with James was just as different and difficult as he did, but in different ways. There were times when she forgot that James had feelings for her (did he have them still?). She would reach out and touch his hand, then remember, and then disengage quickly enough where it wasn't uncomfortable but not so quickly that it would seem obvious what she was thinking.

Friendship with James was difficult because it was so _easy_. He made her laugh, he paid attention to the things she was saying, he offered interesting viewpoints and new ways of looking at things that Lily would never have considered. Sometimes these viewpoints were new were because he was such a troublemaker and prankster, but other times it was be because he was an only child or a Quidditch player or a simply a boy.

It was easy, and that made it difficult to remember where the lines were. She had male friends, but none so close and so knowledgeable about her as James. She could take their hand, hug them, give them kisses on the cheek, because she knew where the lines were in those friendships.

With Amos, she could hug him but the line was drawn at a kiss on the cheek. She knew it would get his hopes up. With Frank, she could practically throw herself at him because he only had eyes for Alice. With Severus, he had been so uncomfortable with touch that Lily didn't dare force it on him. But with James, a friendship that was so new and simultaneously so timeless, it was different. The lines were very blurry.

She realized, quite suddenly, that they hadn't even said the words. They had fallen into this easy friendship, but neither of them had really acknowledged that they were now friends. She had said he was her silver lining in this, and that he had helped her. He had told her he wanted to keep her openness to himself and that he was glad to have been there for her, but the word 'friend' hadn't crossed either of their lips.

"But I suppose you're right," James interrupted, his voice overblown with a forced smile, "If I hadn't been able to take anything seriously, we'd have never gotten here, either."

Lily smiled, grateful for James' continuation, "And what a shame that would be," She said, playing up her sarcasm.

"Oh, I see how it is, Miss Evans," James said loftily, the light returning to his eyes again, "I am simply a tool for your own sick devices, to be tossed aside as soon as a something superior comes along, discarded and left to rot," His voice was crescendoing with each ridiculous statement, causing Lily to giggle, simultaneously amused and exasperated, "Forever doomed to..."

"Oh, shut it," She said, bumping him with her shoulder.

He merely grinned at her as they climbed up the stairs to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Password?" The Fat Lady asked.

"Hungarian Horntail," James said, unnecessarily holding the portrait for Lily after it had swung open, "Ladies first," He grinned incorrigibly.

"You'll be the death of me, James Potter," Lily said as she entered, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

"That's the plan," James said seriously, following her through, "Death through sheer embarrassment."

Lily laughed, "Oh?" She asked, "And how would that work?"

"The usual," James said casually, as they both stood in the center of the Common Room, both not wanting to head towards the stairs that led up to their dormitories. Both not wanting the evening to end just quite yet. Both with the unanswered questions that new friendship, unexpected friendship, brings.

"The usual?" Lily asked, her smile quirked.

"Yep," James said, smacking the 'p' of the word obnoxiously, "Vanishing your clothes in the Great Hall, convincing Peeves to follow you singing lewd songs, transfiguring the suits of armor to make uncouth gestures as you pass. You know," James prompted, "The usual."

"Oh, Merlin," Lily groaned, "The fact you could rattle those off without thinking is terrifying."

"I thought you'd be more impressed that I knew the word 'uncouth'," James quipped.

Lily laughed in response, smiling up at James.

"I was doing being surprised at you being intelligent when I found out you got more OWLs than me," Lily said, smiling.

"Did I?" James asked, surprised, "I never knew that."

"Well, I wasn't about to tell you, was I?" Lily demanded playfully.

James laughed, "No, I suppose not," He said evenly, "Not after the way I let my mouth carry on like I did,"

It was an easy gloss-over of a day that forever changed them both, but Lily didn't mind. It was almost a year ago at this point, and it seemed very far away. They both seemed very far away from the people they were then. Sometimes Lily mourned her friendship with Severus, but after everything that had happened to her this year, she found she couldn't muster up enough mourning for something that was now so small.

She laughed the memory away, instead asking James with a sigh, "Do you ever _think_ about what you say before you say it, James Potter?"

"'Course I do!" James said indignantly.

Lily merely quirked an eyebrow in response.

"I do!" James insisted, "I swear it! My brain just filters differently than yours."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Lily asked, attempting to fake anger but unable to do so without a playful smile on her face.

"Well, when your brain is deciding on what to say," James said, "And understand," He added hastily, giving her an overly-weary glance that made her giggle, "That this is all postulation so don't hex me for getting it wrong," She nodded in agreement as he continued, "I would assume that you sort through based on what best gets your point across, yeah?"

Lily nodded, "Okay, sure. But isn't that what everyone does?" She asked, not following.

"Ah!" James cried, raising a finer to stop her at that thought, "That, my dear," He imperceptibly stumbled over those two words, "Is where you are wrong."

"Am I?" She asked, interested.

"Indeed," James confirmed, "You see, when my mind filters through things it is simply looking for what I could possibly say that would make me and my mates the happiest at that particular moment in time."

Lily considered this for a moment, noting how much it seemed to ring true. Even at James' worst, when he was picking younger students and hexing rivals, it was usually done in response to something, and done so it would make Remus smile or Sirius laugh or cause Peter to be a little less afraid to walk around the corridors. It wasn't a justification, it was just how he had learned to help himself and help his friends.

"I never thought about it like that," Lily conceded.

"Yes, I'm a very complex, many-layered individual," James said, again using his ridiculously lofty tone, the hint of a grin behind his lips.

"Oh, shut up," Lily said in response, to which he let his smile spread.

"Anyway," The Quidditch star said easily, "It's late, we should probably head up to bed, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," Lily said, her eyes drooping just a bit at the edges in unwilling acquiescence.

"G'night, Lily," James said, his balance shifting from foot to foot uncomfortable, him being equally unsure of where the lines were between them.

"James?" Lily asked suddenly, her gaze rushing up to meet his, "We're friends, right?"

"What?" James asked, his balance no longer shifting but rather thrown off a bit by the sudden and abrupt nature of Lily's question.

"Are we friends?" Lily asked again, the question equally passionate in her eyes as it was on her lips.

"What do you mean?" James asked, his eyes holding hers, regarding her strangely and uncertainly.

Lily bit her lip slightly. She knew, now that she had broached the subject, that she would have to continue. With James looking at her as he was, so warily, she wanted nothing more than to forget the whole thing and say good night. But she had to know. She knew that James would never have let the issue lie if it had come to him.

Summoning some measure of strength from that, she continued, "I just mean..." She hesitated for just a moment before hastily pushing it all out, "We haven't said it. We haven't _said_ we're friends, and I know we're spending time together and having a laugh together but, I guess I just wanted to be certain."

Her laugh was a bit self-deprecating even to her own ears and her eyes, which had been down at the floor for the duration of her rushed speech, glanced nervously up at his, a bit surprised to find that his were equally nervous.

"So, are we?" She asked, tentatively, "Friends?"

James hesitated just for the slightest of moments. It would have been a giveaway for someone that had known him for his whole life, someone like Sirius or Remus, who knew not only how to determine if anyone was lying or hiding the whole truth just through their sheer experiences at doing so, but also knew James so intimately that they could have psychoanalyzed any one of his sentences accurately. They would have known that his half-second hiccup between the end of the question and the beginning of his response meant a hundred different responses running through his head. They probably would have been able to spell out most of them.

"'Course," James said after the brief hesitation, smiling wide, "We're friends," He said definitively.

They hadn't been friends long enough for her to see it.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: Well that was rather light in comparison to what has been going on in this story, but it marks a much-needed transition, methinks. **

**On a different note, I'd encourage everyone who reads this story to check out my series of one-shots entitled "Break." You can find it on my author page that I really need to update. It's about the various breaking points of the Marauders, Lily, and Snape. Very different than this piece, but I think it's still entertaining! **

**Anywho, ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**XXJAMESLILYXX: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you've liked the tale so far!**

**Yvonne Park: I would try to supply the word you were searching for for you, but then it would look like I'm tooting my own horn. Thank you for your kind words on my writing and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!**

**M'rika: Homework schmomework! Definitely should be reading this instead. ;) I'm glad you liked the interaction between the boys and, yes, I brought the hero complex thing up just because of one of the trio saying something very similar to Harry at some point. He is is father's son, after all. Thanks for your review!**

**daughterofthemoon: Thanks for your kind words both here and over at ! I get behind on updating there because of the delay they have for posting, whereas I can get everything up right away here. I'm glad you like the thematic ties in the story! Thanks for the review!**

**Victor Van Dort: I want to go back and correct all my spelling/grammar mistakes but I know that as soon as I start on that I'll lose my thread for starting new chapters. Once this work is finished I full intend on going back and fixing those. And probably rewriting Chapter 1 as, the more I read it, the more I dislike it. Thanks for the review!**

**elephunts101: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy it! Thanks for the review!**

**frecklemary: I know it's a bit of a wait, but here it is, more of the story! I'm glad you enjoy it so much and I hope you continue to. Thanks for the review!**

**LexingtonAveryPotter: James is easily my favorite character to portray, because I think he gets oversimplified too often. I'm glad you enjoy the story. Thanks for reviewing!**

**summersrain: This one was a bit on the lighter side, but given that it was only a single moment and was meant to convey the changing nature of Lily and James' relationship, I hope you'll forgive me. I'm glad you enjoy it and I hope you didn't have to wait on the edge of your seat too long! Thanks for reviewing!**

**JulieAV: Thanks so much for the review! And for continuing with this story! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Anmylica: I like using the situations of the Marauders and their era to talk about bigger things and handle bigger themes. It keeps me more engaged as a writer and offers the reader something different to look at each interaction with. I'm glad you like it! Thank you for reviewing!**


	18. Leaders

When there are extraordinary events happening, it is often common for people to overlook the more mundane aspects of their life. For instance, when a husband and wife are going through a divorce, sometimes their performance at their place of employee suffers, or their relationships with their friends weaken, simply because all of their energies are going into the extraordinary event that his happening in their life. Or, as Lily Evans reacted when her parents passed away, she did not neglect the more mundane aspects of her life, but rather became so involved with them that the meaning or purpose of doing them was lost.

With the war going on around them, with the presence of black envelopes looming overhead, many students were going through this. Their romantic relationships, so strong at one point, began to unravel as they worried more about their families than the well-being of their loved ones. Schoolwork suffered on the whole, and as consequences teachers had to reduce their workload, understanding the nature of the times.

What's strange is that, often, the trick can work in reverse. Somehow, occasionally the more normal parts of a person's life can act just as the extraordinary parts, usually only if the more mundane aspects have first been ignored. It then feels as though they have snuck up on that person and, in reaction, must be given the utmost deference, as the person usually realizes then how much that particular part of their life has fallen by the wayside, maybe even into disrepair.

It was that which was encountering the students of Hogwart's that year. As the extraordinary horrors of the war continued to become more and more evident to them, the more the things they normally would have been worrying about at school seemed to disappear. But, as the first week of June and, hence, exams came closer and closer, it was suddenly as if all the normal things had reappeared all at once.

Even with war brewing, the last weeks of May 1976 were filled with, of all things, normality. Students hurried into the Library for hours at a time, usually not coming out until just before curfew. And, as consequence, the normal aspects of Hogwart's life began to improve. More random couples were caught snogging in broom closets, wandering the corridors became safer because even the Slytherins who might have been terrorizing them at night had to make sure they didn't fail their examinations.

Unsurprisingly, the Marauders did not spend their time studying, but found other ways to bring normality back to their school. They took to Remus' suggestion to try more advanced magic to plan pranks to heart and, using their April Fool's Day prank as a template, they would appear in random corridors, surprising NEWT students with singing pop quizzes that would hit them with a tickling charm every time they got an answer wrong, or in the library with Exploding Snap flashcards they invented that only blew up when you threw the an answer card on a question card it didn't match.

Lily, oddly enough, had been splitting her own time. She was dealing with school and her 6th year exams with studying, but she also occasionally helped the boys with some of their more difficult pranks. She was unaware of their reasons for doing so, but was interested and pleased to be involved with their incredibly unique theories and ideas of magic. It could be construed as another attempt to use an abundance of work to keep herself from thinking of her parents and sister, and it was, but it was also a product of genuine interest.

It was such a practice that the group was now involved in, huddled in front of the fire of the Gryffindor Common Room, with parchment in front of them, Lily's Potions textbook discarded over the side of her chair. Notes littered the parchment and a particularly abused stuffed animal sat on the table, the subject upon which they tried out many of their pranks. Hilariously, the miserable bundle of cloth and stuffing once belonged to a young James, a fact that Lily enjoyed teasing him about, though James laughed it off just as easily. It was incredibly difficult to get James embarrassed about anything, unless it was Lily, but Lily herself was unaware of that fact.

"I don't understand," Lily was insisting, "How this is supposed to work!"

Sirius looked at her, a mocking expression of pity and condescension on his face, "Evans, mate, _you_ don't have to understand how it's going to work. Just trust us that _we_ understand that it is."

"No," Lily countered stubbornly, pointing again to something they had been scribbling, "If you're just standing there, Filch could get you at any time. Are you not worried about that?"

"Not even a little bit," Sirius grinned, causing the other Marauders to laugh along with him.

Lily looked uncomprehendingly at the four boys, "Why _not_?" She asked incredulously.

"Evans," Sirius started, "We've snuck about the castle for six years," He said easily to growing grins from Remus and James - the Marauders loved to build up their own legend and, while that was something that traditionally Lily would have hated, knowing the boys as she did now caused such a statement to simply make her roll her eyes behind her thin smile, "And, besides, we're not particularly terrified of getting detentions."

"Besides," James added, "I don't think Dumbledore would even give us detentions for this."

"Oh, really?" Lily countered, ticking off the rules they were breaking on her fingers, "Out after hours, outside after curfew, unlawful use of experimental magic, possession of banned items, _use_ of banned items-"

"They're just _fireworks_, Lily," James interjected.

"And I don't even want to know why or how you have them," Lily countered quickly, before taking a deep breath. "Remus," she started suddenly, looking at the other boy in an exasperated manner, "Do you realize we're _prefects_?"

"I feel less bad about that than I should, probably," Remus remarked dryly, to laughter from the other boys and a giggle from Lily.

Maybe it was a way to forget, for all of them. Lily could forget about her parents. She couldn't really, of course, but there was something still worthwhile in the smiles. Because of this she could smile even when she did remember. Not always, but sometimes, and that was worth more than Lily could say.

For the Marauders, they could forget about their new reasons for these pranks, their de facto practice for the war. Truly, it was always in the back of their minds, their experiments serving as a unique magical challenge for entertainment purposes, but also hid more serious undercurrents. The more serious possible applications of their magical talents were notated elsewhere, away from Lily who, as much as she helped, wasn't a Marauder.

It was just nice to let, for once, the mundane overwhelm the extraordinary.

* * * * * * * *

It wasn't like James to stay up late to study but, then again, when it came to Lily Evans, it wasn't like James to do a lot of the things he did. It usually wasn't exclusively Lily that did it, but she was an important contributing factor, no matter James' honest desire that he could make decisions without the redhead being in his brain. The pair were going over Potions, specifically on the history of truth serums, breaking down what ingredients provided what properties to the truth serum, and how these properties came to be found in the first place.

It was dreadfully boring work, but James was still smiling.

"So," Lily was explaining, "They use different poisonous parts of plants, like belladonna or elderberry, and the more poisonous the part, the more compelled the subject feels to answer the question truthfully."

"And they're made safe for human consumption by dragon's blood," James said, partially in statement and partially in question.

"Right," Lily confirmed, "One of the uses Dumbledore found, actually," She added thoughtfully.

"Oh, really?" James asked, interested, "Good luck for Dumbledore that Sluggy is younger than him, he'd have taken all the credit," James added cheekily.

"Oh, stop it," Lily scolded him, "I happen to like Slughorn."

"_Like_ Slughorn?" James asked, incredulous, "I've heard of _tolerating_ the codger, but _liking_ him?" James made an exaggerated expression of disgust, to which Lily gave him a withering look.

"He's a bit overbearing, sure-" Lily began.

"A _bit_?" James said, and was about to add more, but stopped himself at Lily's serious glance.

"He's a bit overbearing," Lily repeated, "And I know you are innately distrustful of Slytherins," she added parenthetically, before James again interrupted.

"I'll give you Sluggy, he's alright as far as the snakes go," James agreed.

Lily shot James another warning glance at the interruption, causing James to hold up his hands to her in a gesture of surrender, "But as much as he is the way he is, he _cares_," Lily said firmly, coming to the crux of her argument, "He actually _cares_ about how these students do, and wishes them to be successful and happy, and it's _easy_ not to like him, but I can't make myself ignore the _good_ in him."

James smiled at Lily's passionate speech wanly, looking at her for a long few seconds, a thoughtful expression on his face as he shrugged back into the couch.

"You know," James said seriously, bringing Lily's eyes to his more firmly, "If you replace 'students' with 'Lily Evans' in that sentence, you could very well have been talking about Snape."

There was a pregnant pause, and both knew immediately with the mention of Severus Snape's name the mood had changed and they had crossed a line in their new friendship that hadn't been touched on before. Lily stiffened at the end of James' sentence and, while James posture was still relaxed, there was an almost undetectable tension in his chest that the other Marauders would have picked up on. There was a part of Lily that wanted to react angrily but, their newfound friendship in mind, she rolled James sentence over again in her mind.

"You're right," Lily said softly, "I suppose it could have been. Last year, it could have been," She quickly amended.

"Of course," James said easily, knowing he was toeing the lines of their relationship but unable to stop himself, "With Sluggy, "he is the way he is" means trying to hook you up with someone in the Ministry of Magic, or Magical Law Enforcement. With Snape-"

Lily interrupted, "With Severus it's the Dark Arts, James, yes," She said sadly, ending the sentence with a sigh.

If had just been the sentence, James probably would have kept going, but something in that sigh, patient but exasperated, accepting but defiant, that cowed James in a way that no one else had ever really been able to do.

"Sorry," James said, truthfully but without real apology, "I didn't mean anything by it," He added.

"We've had this conversation before," Lily said, the corner of her lip curling up gently.

"We have?" James asked, confused.

"It was about Amos Diggory, then," Lily confirmed, "You said "I didn't mean anything by it" and I said "You never mean anything by it, James, but that doesn't mean it doesn't affect people.""

"Honestly, and this sounds awful, but it's not often that I care if what I say affects people," James admitted earnestly.

"Which makes you seem like a right git sometimes," Lily seriously, "But less so when you realize how much you do care about those that are special to you."

"Stop it, Evans," James said laughingly, "You'll make me blush," he added with no indication that he ever would.

"Prat," Lily jokingly spat, giving him a faux-withering glance.

James only grinned in response, before turning back to his Potions essay, scribbling some nonsense or another that Lily knew she'd be unable to read. It wasn't that James had bad handwriting, just that the way he wrote certain letters was confusing to her, his "h"s would look like "n"s and vice versa, his "q"s a bit like "a"s. She figured everyone else was able to tell the words apart simply through practice with James and context of the words, but she hadn't had the experience of getting to know him that well yet.

"You're right, though," Lily added after several seconds of silence.

"'Course I am," James immediately added, the response to that particular sentence thoroughly ingrained into him, "'Bout what, now?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the paper.

"About myself and Severus," Lily said uncertainly.

James looked at her sensitively, "Lily, you should know by now you can ignore the things that come out of my mouth."

"No, it's alright," Lily affirmed, "Most of the things you say that I should ignore are the things that are most important for me to think about."

A quirky reply immediately jumped to James' lips, Lily could see it in his face, but his eyes grew wide for a moment, and he smothered whatever statement he had behind his teeth and instead simply went with asking, "Yeah?"

"I never thought about why I stuck with Severus so long," Lily said quietly, "But you're right. There was, there _is_, good in him, and maybe it was only when it came to me, but that means it's there..." Lily trailed off.

"But...?" James prompted, sensing there was continuation of her sentence from the expression on Lily's face.

"But hope can only get you so far. There needs to be something..." She struggled a moment for the word, "Something _tangible_. Something _real_. Something that justifies that hope."

"And now we could be talking about the war," James noted.

Lily opened her mouth to reply, then closed it quickly again, giving James an odd look of curiosity, "How do you _do_ that?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" James replied, flummoxed.

"I mean, how do you make those sorts of connections so quickly?" Lily questioned, "I see exactly what you mean now that you've made the point, but I don't know if I'd have got there on my own."

"I'm a genius," James replied easily, grinning widely.

"James," Lily said, without humor, "Really."

James shrugged, still smiling, "I don't know, really. Just do. When you're running around with-" His eyes widened in shock almost imperceptibly for a moment, before tamping down again, "the Marauders, you need to be able to think differently about things," He paused only for the briefest of moments before adding, "Can I tell you something?"

Lily blinked a few times, thrown off initially by the abruptness of the question, "Sure, what?" She confirmed politely.

"For much of last year, I was jealous of Snape," He said, with no hint of embarrassment, though his status as a Marauder should have made that statement absurd.

"How do you mean?" Lily asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"You saw the good in Snape, and that hope led you to being his friend for years and years, despite no tangible evidence. I'm paraphrasing you here," He said, as if asking for a confirmation.

"Yes," Lily agreed, "That's the short story, yes."

"I tried to show you the good in me for all of fifth year." James began earnestly, "_Evidence_ of the good in me all that year. And it was obvious enough that you were friends with Snape without that sort of evidence and I didn't understand, I was furious about, having to work so much harder for even the time of day," James sighed heavily, "I didn't want to just admit that," He admitted, laughing at himself, "But there you go."

Lily graced James with a small smile, "I'm sorry, James," She said genuinely, then continued, feeling the need to explain, "I'm _stubborn_, James. I gave Severus seven years because I _did_ have hope. It took me five and a half to realize you actually _had_ hope," She smiled a bit wider as James grinned at this statement, "There's little you could have done. Truthfully, I knew there was good in you most of fifth year, and much of this year as well, but I liked denying it more than admitting I was wrong," Lily said sheepishly, smiling shyly as James' grin grew wider.

"Thanks, Lily," James said honestly.

"It's just," Lily tripped over her words in an embarrassed fashion, "It's not... It's just the truth, James."

"Exactly," James said definitively, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Lily sighed, rolling her eyes, "You're welcome, James."

"There it is!" James immediately cried, "Just the sentence we were looking for."

"You're ridiculous," Lily noted, shaking her head and returning to her own Potions essay.

"'Course I am," James agreed instantly, also turning to his essay, "I'd have to be to put up with Sirius all day," He noted jokingly.

"How true," Lily remarked dryly.

For several minutes, nothing but the sounds of their quills scribbling against parchment could be heard over the low, glowing crackle of the ever-present fire. It was late, but neither student was particularly tired, and both knew that the essay needed to be finished by tomorrow. It had snuck up on them, in all the volatility and extraordinary activity of the past few months and, truly, it was nice to have something normal to consume them for a time.

It wasn't an awkward silence between them either, which felt significant to James, though he would never admit it in front of Lily. Even around Remus, who would often tell him to shut up and do his work in quiet, he felt the silences unbroken by him or Sirius were awkward and unnatural. But to sit with Lily in silence, simply scratching about how Dragon's Blood and poisonous plants work together to create the non-lethal active ingredient of a truth serum, was infinitely comfortable.

But the mundane and ordinary could only last so long.

After a few more minutes of silence, James stopped writing his paper, but the look of concentration on his face remained, "Lily?" He questioned quietly.

Not looking up from her paper, Lily replied, "Yeah, James?"

"What do you think about the war?" James asked again.

The question stopped her quill mid-letter. Calmly, she dropped the writing utensil and asked, without looking at James, "Sorry?"

"What do you think about the war, Lily?" James asked again.

An expression of frustration and sadness crossed her face, and she consciously pushed down the lump in her throat that was bubbling up, "How do you _think_ I feel about the war, James?"

"That's not-" He sighed, "That's not what I meant. I know-" He swallowed heavily, "I know better than most how much this has hurt you, yeah?"

The tears were threatening and, as much as she had cried in front of James over the past few months, she never liked doing it in front of other people, even him, "I know, yes," She agreed calmly.

"I just meant," He sighed again, "Do you want to do something about it?" He let the question hang unanswered, before helplessly adding, "I guess is what I meant to ask."

"What's there to do?" Lily asked hopelessly, managing for a moment to keep the emotions down.

"I-" James hesitated for a moment and it was that hesitation that caused Lily to finally look at him. He looked troubled, excited, sad, bursting with energy, completely downtrodden, handsome and windswept as he always did, his eyes tempered with pain. For a brief instant Lily wanted to reach out and touch his cheek in caring, but was still unsure of where the lines stood between the two of them.

"Do you remember Michelle outing my, um, "protection" of the tower?" He asked tentatively, changing the subject to better explain something as he often did, another example of his strange and occasionally brilliant manner of thinking.

"Yes," Lily agreed, pushing away the dull pain in her gut at the thought.

"The point of it was, the whole protection thing I mean," He clarified, looking down, "Was that I wanted to _do_ something, yeah?" He drew his gaze to her again, and she nodded in agreement, "And I felt like, well, pranks and Gryffindor Tower, it's not enough."

"It was a lot, James. It meant a lot to everyone here," Lily said earnestly.

"Thanks," James said pointlessly, almost as if he hadn't heard her, or had heard the same thing several times, he looked down at the table again, "Dumbledore said much the same when I talked to him about it."

"_Dumbledore_?" Lily asked, that revelation quickly jumping out of his sentence.

"Yeah," James agreed, "And..." He trailed off, hesitantly, and looked back up at Lily once more, "Look, this isn't something he's letting anyone get involved in until after graduation, okay? So don't feel like you have to answer right now, yeah?" James asked nervously.

"Um," Lily stammered, confused, "Okay, James."

"He's starting an organization called the Order of the Phoenix," James said quietly, "To fight," He added. Then, after a beat and pointlessly he added again, "You-Know-Who."

"Oh," Lily said shortly, looking past James in an unfocused manner, unsure of how to reply. Again the emotion was bubbling up beneath her.

"You don't-" James stuttered quickly, "Like I said, it's not for another year and you don't have to say anything know I just..." He trailed off, moving his head until it was in Lily's direct line of vision, drawing her gaze back to him. He started more calmly, "I just thought you should know," He said.

"Yeah," Lily said, shortly again and James' shoulders drooped a bit at the tone. Noticing, Lily gave a tentative, weak grin, "Thank you, James."

There was a slight pause, as Lily went to again work on her paper before being surprised by James speaking up again.

"We've got to do it," James said, an intensity in his far-off gaze that Lily could see as she turned to look at him again, "Sirius and Remus and Peter and I? We've got to do it."

"_You've_ got to do it, James," Lily corrected him, "The other three have got to follow you, you're their leader."

That statement seemed to shake James out of his intensity, as he looked strangely at Lily, a strange grin on his features, "What?" He asked, "I'm not the leader of anything, Lily. Except the Quidditch team. The Marauders? We're all, you know, together. We're all leaders."

"No, James, that's just not true," Lily asserted, adding, "No, let me finish," When James opened his mouth to contradict her, "Maybe you don't want to be looked at like that, but you are. The entire school gets their cues on how to act from you guys, and Sirius and Remus and Peter get their cues from how to act from you," She continued on loudly as it looked again like James was going to interject, "I don't think it's intentional, or that they think you're above them, it's just the way it is. You're a natural leader, James, people can't help but want to follow what you say."

James shifted uncomfortably, "I'm no leader," He said with less conviction than he wanted, "I don't..." He trailed off for a moment, "I'm not asking for anyone to follow me, much less my friends. They're all their own people and..." Again his voice faded out uncertainly.

"They look up to you," Lily said strongly, "Merlin knows why, the berks, but they do," She said, just lightly enough for James to crack a grin, "Now, you can either embrace that or run from it."

James looked at Lily, still smiling, with it growing maybe a bit larger before he said, "Is that really a question, Evans? When do I run from anything?"

Lily smiled, "Exactly. So don't run from this. You're already a leader. Embrace it."

"I-" James began, the strange lack of confidence that he would never exhibit in public on full, vulnerable display for only half a second before he replaced it with a more natural smile, "Thanks, Evans," He grinned and turned back to his paper.

Lily rolled her eyes, "No problem, _Potter_," She said, deliberately stressing his name.

"So, what are you doing about this summer?" James asked, deliberately nonchalant.

"You mean..." Lily trailed off, the uncertainty now focused on her, "My living situation?"

James nodded, looking up from his paper, an calm but worried look on his face, "Yeah."

"I've been talking with Mary and Alice about staying with them. I-" She abruptly halted her sentence, noting internally that she hadn't told anyone about this particular fact, but then gathering strength up as she realized that, if anyone, she could tell James, "I wrote my sister, too. Asking if I could stay with her and Vernon."

"Yeah?" James asked kindly.

"Yeah," Lily confirmed, "I haven't heard back yet, but I can't figure out if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"You tried," James said, "That's the important part. If she can't pick that up, that's on her, not you."

Lily nodded, the emotion again welling up, "Yeah," She said brokenly.

"You can't blame yourself for something you did when you were a little kid, Lily," James continued softly, his arm reaching out to her knee tentatively, but after the initial touch rubbing it more comfortingly, "Where would I be if I did that?" James joked.

With a large sniffle, Lily let out a short gasp of laughter, "True," She allowed. Then, after a moment's pause, looked at James with determination and said, "See? You _are_ a leader."

She said it with such vigor and defiance in her eyes that James couldn't even attempt to deny her, he simply smiled slightly and said again, "Thanks, Lily."

Lily returned his smile before inhaling deeply, brushing her eyes quickly, with an unsuccessful attempt at surreptitiousness. She looked at James with an exasperated expression and then indicated their papers, "Now, we _have_ to get done with this."

"Absolutely, right, darling," James said, putting on his ridiculously lofty vocal affectation, "Or we'll of course be late for the gala," James added.

"Oh, do shut up," Lily groaned.

After a few moments of silence and scratching and the crackling of the fire Lily added, "It was nice this week, to forget about all the things going on outside of Hogwart's."

"Doesn't last," James said with heartbreaking ease.

"I hope there will still be moments like this, though," Lily added, a sense of pleading in her voice, "Moments where we forget that terrible things are going on outside, and can just worry about the twelve uses of Dragon's Blood."

"There will be," James said just as easily, not looking up from his paper, "It won't all be black envelopes and tearful conversations. It won't always be intense discussion and distrustful backwards glances."

"How do you know?" Lily asked quietly.

James looked up from his paper but, as opposed to looking at Lily, he instead turned his gaze, as he often did, to the fire. For a few moments he just stared there, before cracking a grin and turning to her and saying, "You gotta have both, remember?" He watched the small grin of recognition spread on Lily's face before continuing, "We're not wired that way. Even when things are at their worst, we're programmed as people to be able to find something good. We'd never survive otherwise."

Lily wondered idly when James got so wise about things, about people.

The pair smiled at each other and went back to work on their essays.

"_Lea-der_," Lily intoned in a sing-song voice.

James couldn't help but crack up laughing.

* * * * * * * *

**A/N: That chapter did not go at all how I planned, which is ridiculous since planning this chapter is what took so freaking long to get it out. Regardless, I rather enjoyed the way it did come out, and I hope you all did, too.**

**Before I get back to the reviews, I want to thank all of you who have made compliments on my writing throughout the course of this story and point you to something else I do, the blog I run entitled Racecar Brown. It has mature language, and deals with mature opinions, but if you're interested simply Google "Racecar Brown" and it'll be the first thing that comes up. Hope you check it out!**

**Now, ONTOTHEREVIEWS**

**mebmarker24: Hey! I have missed your constructive comments over the last few chapters, thanks for reviewing again. I understand that it definitely was different than the other chapters but, like you said, it was a much needed break in tone, otherwise the emotion might have been too much. What IS it you like about my writing, by the way? Inquiring minds want to know. Thanks again!**

**Yvonne Park: Well, relationships move very slowly and, according to the books, Lily and James don't get together until the beginning of Year 7, so, yeah. I have to make it move slow in that aspect! Thank you so much for reviewing and continuing on with the story.**

**Julie AV: Between the last update and this update I turned 24. Yes, I am a nerd. These things happen. Thank you for your compliments!**

**elephunts101: Well, both of them are staying away form the topic of how they like each other. Neither of them are ready for that yet and they both know it, especially with what's going on around them. Thanks for the review!**

**rain...during winter?!: Aw! Thank you for enjoying my story so thoroughly. Hopefully it hasn't been too long since the last update where you have to recheck the whole story and become bleary-eyed again! Thanks for the review!**

**frecklemary: To answer your questions, I think it's going to take Lily and James both awhile to even get to a place where they can discuss those kinds of feelings. And, second, I have absolutely no idea how long this story is going to be. If I had to guess, I'd say at most 10 more chapters? But, hell, for all I know it could be 50 more chapters. I'm glad you enjoy my pacing, that was one of my focuses with this story, and I have full intention of not giving up on this. Thanks for the review!**

**summersrain: The story definitely needed a softer chapter, as it can't be that stressful all the time! Thanks for reviewing!**

**KaceyO: I thought the Alice story was pretty amusing, too, especially from Lily. I'm glad to count you as a reader, and thanks for continuing with the story!**

**Sarahrules336: I'm glad it seems realistic, as that was a big thing I wanted from the story! Thank you for reviewing!**

**The Marauders Are Awesome: Firstly, I agree with your name. Secondly, thank you for enjoying the story so much, and thank you for reviewing!**

**M'rika: It wasn't necessarily supposed to be ominous. I was more trying to paint that James didn't want to necessarily put himself in "The Friend Zone" as it is often called, but was uncertain on how to deal with that very issue. I like fake-haughty James, too. Glad you enjoyed it, thanks for reviewing!**

**names are overrated: Thank you for your high opinion of my work! I'm glad to know that this story has grabbed you. Thanks for reviewing!**

**XXJAMESLILYXX: Sorry if this took too long! With holidays and jobs, etcetera and so forth, it took a bit longer to get this chapter out. Hope you like it! Thanks for the review!**

**Alicia: Thank you for you detailed thoughts on my story. They really make me want to work harder and put out something great for all my readers. I'm happy you think so highly of my story and, please don't cry! It's another chapter! Yay! Thank you for reviewing.**

**daughterofthemoon: I'm glad you picked upon that being my own explanation of how James might start garnering opinion for the position of Head Boy. I tried to explain it from a student's perspective in this chapter as well. As far as Chapter 1 goes, I wouldn't change it plot-wise or even dialog-wise, I'd simply tune it's writing style to fit the subsequent chapters. But that's a ways off of even being a possibility. Thanks for reviewing!**

**middlechild3of5: For a character to be likable, he has to be more than one-dimensional, which was my goal for James. And, yes, I am a dude! Thanks for enjoying my story, and for reviewing!**

**Heart of the Phoenix: Thank you for your kind words. I have always tried to make characterization a focal point of writing a story, so I appreciate it. Thanks for reviewing!**

**-EHWIES: Thank you! I truly enjoy "Through A Glass Darkly" and read it as often as it updates, so thank you for that, from one writer to another. Thanks for the review!**

**Randomisation: Picking a theme for each chapter imbues that chapter with a sense of purpose, so it's almost more for me as a writer than it is for you as a reader (embarrassingly). But I am glad you enjoy it! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Dustfinger's cheering section: I promise not to abandon this story. Yay! I hope that you enjoy this chapter as much as you've enjoyed the others, and I thank you for reviewing.**


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